For Honor: The Wishful Few
by Mister Cydonia
Summary: As Apollyon sets her plans of chaos and war into motion, few of men and women across the three factions hope to stop her. Time grows short, but they hang on to the hope of peace. For Honor Alternate Universe and SYOC - Abandoned
1. Chapter Zero: Prologue and Application

As the full moon rose in the distance, rows of soldiers marched their way to Ashfeld. The torches danced in the night. The Blackstone Legion's marching was the only sound as they left a burning city called Ran. The city rested on the outskirts of the Myre. Ran was a major supplier to the Emperor's Palace, for its foundation was farming. The effects of a major food supply would increasingly hurt the Samurai, for the Samurai, without food, would be forced to get it from somewhere else. That somewhere else would be either the Vikings or Knights, which would create something that Apollyon wanted - war.

Apollyon's black steed suddenly stopped in front of the Blackstone Legion, causing Holden Cross, the warlord's mighty Lawbringer, to step forward, saying, "what is wrong, sire?"

"Do you see that, Cross?" Her voice was quiet and powerful. Extending her arm, she dragged it across the distance, making Cross peer into the distance, "that is the future battlefield. The battlefield where we separate the wolves from the sheep."

"I see," Cross responded to his master. Underneath the ghastly helmet, Apollyon smiled, for her plans were finally starting. Kicking the animal that she sat atop on, the horse started its gait once again, causing the rest of the Blackstone Legion to begin their march. As rain fell from the sky, a Peacekeeper, who was called Mercy, walked up behind the Lawbringer.

"What did that mean?" Mercy quietly whispered to Cross, causing him to sigh.

"I'm not sure; however, I'm sure that it means a lot if it's coming out of her mouth," Cross told the Peacekeeper without removing his eyes off Apollyon. Crossing her arms, Mercy tensed her figure, for she was skeptical of the warlord's plans. It wasn't that Cross didn't have his doubts about Apollyon, but he had seen what she could do; and it was very, very violent.

And the Blackstone Legion, once again, marched into the night, leaving a burning silhouette of a city in the back of their mind. And as the armored soldiers marched forward, a few of the men and women were having second thoughts - something that the warlord, known as Apollyon, would have a problem with. Nevertheless, the ones who thought these thoughts knew that they'd have to do something about this.

* * *

 **Basic Information**

Name:

Affiliation (Vikings, Samurai, Knights):

Class (Lawbringer, Orochi, Berserker, etc.):

Sex:

Race:

Age:

 **In-depth Information**

Background (Be detailed):

Strengths (At least 3 - emotional and physical):

Weaknesses (At least 3 - emotional and physical):

Personality (Be detailed):

Flaws:

What benefits would they have?:

Any ulterior motives?:

 **Appearance**

Hair color:

Hairstyle:

Eye color:

Height:

Weight:

Any notable marks?:

 **Miscellaneous**

Preferred weapons:

Equipment that they'd have:

Family:

Why are they here?:

Anything else?:

* * *

 **Rules**

 **I have the right(s) to kill off, injure, or do anything to any characters.**

 **I have the right(s) to accept, deny, or change the character.**

 **All characters are to be sent through PM only.**

 **Do not be upset if something happens to your character that you didn't want to happen.**

 **I will only be accepting 5-7 characters, so don't be upset if I do not accept your character.**


	2. Chapter One: The Shonto Fortress

Somewhere in the Myre, where the rain fell harder than anywhere else in the regions, there was a certain girl laying on her stomach in the mud. Dressed in the typical Shinobi garb with various symbols and ornate patterns, she belonged to the Renjiro clan. This Shinobi, who was named Hanako Nakasone, was one of the clan's better Shinobi. As such, she was sent on various missions that ranged from assassinations to spying.

On this particular mission, Nakasone sat, waiting for her victim - a small Ashfeld warlord that was growing his legion's power and wealth across the outskirts of Ashfeld. Fearing that this warlord would soon start taking the villages that paid them crops, the Renjiro clan took it upon themselves to stop his expansion. They sent Nakasone to stop his legion - permanently. This warlord, known as Verecto Shonto, controlled portions of the very, very outskirts of Ashfeld and little of the border of the Myre.

Suddenly, the sound of soldiers walking through the Myre struck Nakasone's ear. Tensing, Nakasone gripped her Oyumi. The soldiers wore the colors of a grey and yellow beetle - the Shonto legion's symbol. Releasing the arrow, it cut the air in two and pierced the heart of the first soldier, sending him toppling to the ground. In a flash, Nakasone put the Oyumi back on her back and pulled out her Kusarigama before jumping onto the second man. On top of the soldier, the Shinobi cut the man's throat. Quickly turning to the third and final man, who was running at her with his sword raised into the sky, she prepared herself for the attack. The sword split the air as it made its descent towards Nakasone's head. Dodging the blade and simultaneously planting her Kusarigama into the man's back, causing him to curse in pain. Tearing it out of his back horizontally, the man fell to the ground, significantly injured.

"Where is Verecto Shonto?" The Shinobi said as the grab the man's hand, "if you tell me, I won't break all ten of your fingers."

"You won't do anything, bitch!" The man screamed at her in anger. Shrugging, Nakasone wrapped her hand around two of the soldier's fingers and pulled. The man screamed in pain, "stop, stop, stop!"

"There are still eight more fingers," She threatened as she wrapped her hand around two different fingers, "so I will ask once more: where is Shonto?"

"He's in the Shonto Fortress just beyond the Myre in Ashfeld!" The man confessed, "now let me go!"

"I said I wouldn't break your fingers, not your neck." The man's eyes widened. As he opened his mouth to beg for his life, Nakasone swiftly broke the man's neck. As she got off the limp body, she surveyed the area. The lifeless bodies rested in the downpour. To any other person, this sight would invoke a gag, but to Nakasone it was a normal sight. Turning down to where the men came from, she started her run.

* * *

The Shonto Fortress was certainly a might sight to behold. Even though it wasn't as large as the Blackstone Fortress or even the Emperor's palace in the Myre, it completed its purpose well. The thick stone walls were decorated with banners with the Shonto Legion's symbol sewn into them. Inside the walls, a large wooden building. A few men walked the length of the stone walls, as they were only archers. For a fortress, this one wasn't as heavily guarded as the ones she had infiltrated before, so this would be easy… right?

Waiting until the archers had gone to the opposite side of the fortress, Nakasone ran to the stone wall. Pushing her back against it, she listened for footsteps. Luckily, there were none. Taking the grappling hook that hung from her belt, she threw it up and it caught itself on the edge of the stone. Tugging on it to make sure it was tight, she started her ascent. With the help of her hooked gauntlets, scaling the wall wasn't a problem.

As she made it to the top of the tower, she peeked over to see if there were any men in her immediate vision - none. Climbing onto the walkway, she made her way through, moving from cover to cover. As she peered over the large fence that sat on the sides of the walkway and into the courtyard, she saw her target - Verecto Shonto. He was talking to another man underneath a large tree. The other man wasn't part of the Shonto Legion, for he wore colors different than the original yellow and grey: he wore black and orange. Recognizing the colors immediately, they belonged to the infamous Blackstone Legion.

Deciding that it would be better to gather intel then kill the target, Nakasone made her way closer, making sure that she wasn't spotted by the archers. Carefully hearing for any importance, she listened to the conversation that was happening between the two:

" _...wants your support with her armies. We need to know if you are trustworthy,"_ That was the man she didn't recognize. His voice gave her a signal that he was from southwest Ashfeld, _"she wants some of your troops. Send over all you can and we have a deal."_

" _Okay, I'll be sure to do that,"_ Shonto told the man after a quick chuckle, _"but do you have it now, though? I'll be needing it before I can support your legion."_

" _I do have it, Shonto,"_ The man said before motioning for two other men, who were also clad in black and orange, to pull over a large wooden chest. Opening the chest, Shonto smiled when he saw what was inside. After a laugh, Shonto slapped the man on the back.

" _What is it that your leader needs?"_ Shonto said as he and the other man walked towards the building, _"we have plenty of men, horses, catapults, weapons…"_

The men had walked too far away for Nakasone to keep listening in. Even though she didn't capture as much as she would have liked, she had what she needed. _What were the Blackstone Legion doing here?_ Nakasone thought. _Whatever it is, it must be important. The Renjiro clan must know about this. First, however, I must complete my mission._

Taking a match from her belt, she lit it. Waiting for the men to enter the building, she tossed the match to a pile of hay that sat alongside it. Quickly burning up, the fire spread to the wooden house, which collapsed underneath the fire. The two men ran out, coughing. As they did this, however, Nakasone released an arrow from her Oyumi, which pierced Shonto's unarmored chest. When realizing what happened, the man, who was from the Blackstone Legion, turned to the direction the arrow was shot. Yelling for the men on the walkways to catch the Shinobi, he got a glimpse of the assassin's clan's symbol - a dark navy blue and faded light yellow with three stars and crescent moon with crossed arrows underneath.

Turning quickly, she ran to where the grappling hook was still attached to the wall. Grabbing it and jumping off, she collided with the ground but absorbed the impact with a masterful roll. The archers atop the ground released a volley of arrows as Nakasone made her escape. Cursing under his breath that the assassin made her release, the Blackstone Legionnaire called for one of his subordinates to come to him.

"Yes, Ademar?" The man said as he walked up to the Warden.

"Tell Apollyon that the Samurais are getting curious. Her plans are coming together." Ademar told the man, who saluted in return. And as his messenger went on his way to the Blackstone Fortress, Ademar smirked underneath his helmet.

* * *

"Tetsuo Renjiro, I have urgent news," Nakasone said as she entered the man's chamber. The chamber was dimly lit, as four torches provided the totality of the light in the room. Renjiro sat in a large throne-like seat that was opposite Nakasone. His darkly colored mask was taken off, revealing a chiseled figure. He leaned forward in his chair, listening to what the young Shinobi had to say. Nakasone continued, saying, "the Blackstone Legion has been conspiring with the Shonto Legion. This leads me to believe that they are planning an assault on the Myre."

"The Blackstone Legion, you say?" Renjiro's expression showed a glimpse of fear, "why would they be here?" The question wasn't as much pointed to Nakasone as it was to himself.

"I think that they're here for the two big ones: wealth and land," Nakasone responded to the question that wasn't hers. Renjiro shook his head.

"No," Renjiro said dismissively, "they haven't done things for conquest in the past. There's no clear pattern with whatever they do. They're unpredictable."

Nakasone hummed, for he was right. They haven't ever taken land, money, or anything from anyone. Instead, they destroy cities, execute people, and burn food. _What do they want?_ Nakasone thought. _Maybe they're here to destroy the Myre, as they think that this will strengthen Ashfeld? I doubt it. Whatever it is, however, can't be good._

"Whatever it is, sir," Nakasone finally spoke up, "it can't be good. Perhaps we can spy on them to determine what they want."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Renjiro agreed as he nodded. Turning to a general that stood to his right, he whispered something in his ear. The general said 'yes sir' and walked out of the chamber. Nakasone watched him leave with skepticism. _What did he tell him?_ She thought. _His expression changed from indifference to shock in half a second._ Renjiro continued speaking, which brought Nakasone out of her thoughts, "thank you for the information. Because you are one of the best Shinobis that we have in the clan, I'm sending you to spy on the Blackstone Legion."

Honestly, Nakasone was shocked, but she kept a level head, "yes, sir."

After being dismissed from Renjiro's presence, Nakasone smiled to herself. She could finally prove that she was worthy of becoming one of the Renjiro clan's generals. Running to her tent for a quick rest and more supplies, Nakasone didn't want to waste time. After two hours of sleep, she went to the stables, retrieved her horse, and rode off towards Ashfeld.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And that was chapter one. This character, Hanako Nakasone, belongs to Mister Bombastic. I hope that I did this character justice, but here's to hoping. Anyway, I hope you, dear readers, enjoyed this chapter.**

 **The first few chapters will probably be focused on introducing the different characters and their motives. I am still accepting your original characters, so please keep submitting!**


	3. Chapter Two: Memories

"Run!" Her father's concerned voice pierced the air as he ran towards the beach that rested near the coastal city. The shouts of men as they rushed to their impending deaths consumed the air. A large ship, which was unmistakably Viking, cast anchor just off the coast. From the water, a vast amount of soldiers rushed from the boat. Her father swung his poleax, hitting many of them. The poleax swung down from the air, splitting a man's head in two. The Lawbringer killed man after man, for he was an experienced man of about twelve years.

"Come, child." Her mother took Esclair and led her to a secret hatch that rested on the floor of their house. Opening it, her mother placed her in the small hole. Placing one last kiss on the child's forehead with tears falling from her eyes, the mother commanded the girl, saying, "stay here and do not come out. I will come to you when this is over, but remember: do not come out. I love you, my dear Esclair."

Closing the hatch, Esclair was left in a complete darkness. She could hear the screams of men, women, and other children above her. Loud footsteps pounded on the wooden floorboards atop. Esclair started crying in the small compartment, her soft noises not leaking through the hatch. Burying her head in her knees, the girl sobbed quietly until she had enough. And as time ticked by, she had lost count of how long she'd been left in this compartment.

After a few hours, or at least that she assumed a few hours had passed, Esclair had finally gained the courage to leave her hiding spot. Peeking over the edge of the secret hatch, she couldn't see anything other than burning buildings and the bloodstained ground. Pulling herself out of the compartment the nine-year-old cautiously stepped onto the muddy ground. Walking out of the half-burnt building, she looked out and into the streets. As she did this, her stomach fell at what she saw: bodies were hung from trees; disembodied heads scattered the streets; the naked bodies of women were thrown away, and a large number of dead villagers were placed in a burning pile.

"Mother? Father?" Esclair cried out in a lost hope, tears streaming from her face. Quickly turning to run, she ran for as fast as she could. She ran down the long, winding road for as long as she could before giving in. And on that muddy road in the deepest part of the night, there was a child. Esclair laid there until her body gave in to sleep. And then, everything went black…

* * *

Throwing herself up in her bed, an older Avice Esclair's heart was beating hard. Looking around her room, she realized that it must have been a dream. Her room was small with minimal things in it: a small bed, an even smaller desk, a few shelves, and a roof that barely fit her. The best thing about this room, perhaps, was the large window that oversaw the beautiful landscape. Pulling herself over the edge of the bed, she sat there, head in her hands.

 _These memories just won't stop._ Esclair thought. _They're also getting worse. Those Vikings need to pay for what they did. Those monsters need to be punished for what they did!_ As she thought these thoughts, anger filled her heart and mind. Becoming frustrated at the lack of punishment on the Vikings, Esclair stood and threw a fist, which punctured the wall beside the bed. Screaming in anger, she fell back onto the bed in tears.

"Esclair?" The voice was unmistakably a man's named Devo Forge, who was the Vector Outpost commander. Knocking, he slowly opened the door before entering. His height was that of average men of his age. His dark brown eyes made a survey of the room before resting on Avice, "everything alright? I heard screams coming from this room."

"Yes, everything's fine," Esclair's words betrayed what she meant. Crossing his arms, Forge didn't believe a word she said and Esclair knew it. Sighing, she was forced to continue, "the only thing is that I've been having dreams. That's all."

"Dreams?" Forge asked as he let his arms fall to the side. Taking a seat in the wooden chair near the desk, he continued, "dreams about what?"

"Nightmares," Esclair said. She didn't want to tell him too much about her, as she was skeptical of him. She never trusted Forge, for he didn't have the best of intentions in mind. His mind centered around power and wealth, "that's all. Now, if you'll please, leave this room, as it is mine and I did not give you explicit allowance to enter."

"Sorry, princess," Forge said with a chuckle. He hated her arrogance so much. To him, vainglory was the worst quality a person could have, especially for a soldier. For if a soldier were to be proud, they'd be overly confident in their abilities, which would make them clumsy in combat. He'd lost many soldiers and friends to this problem, so he was cautious with arrogant people.

And as Forge left the room, Esclair rolled her eyes at his idiotic comment. Lying back down on her bed, she let sleep carry her away.

* * *

The blackness dissolved into a small tent. She was lying on a piece of sheep's skin. Looking around the tent, it was empty except for another armored person sitting at the desk. Jumping a little bit, she hid underneath her covers.

"You're awake," This armored person said without looking at the child. The voice was feminine, powerful, and wise at the same time. Coming out of the covers to peek at the woman, Esclair's heart pounded heavily. Rising to her full height, the woman rose from the desk and turned to Esclair. She was clad in a completely black suit of armor, a large sword resting at her side, "where did you come from?"

"A…" Stuttering, Esclair couldn't bring herself to speak, "a… small village near the… coast…"

"How'd you make it to where I found you?" The woman wasn't asking the question to Esclair, but to herself instead, "was it fear that forced you to go? Determination? Or was it, simply, anger that kept you going? The anger that everyone in your life is gone."

Esclair could feel a tear falling down her cheek, "I… don't know."

"I do. It was the anger that forced you to go, for you were angry that they had all just gone in a blink of an eye," The woman took a step closer and kneeled to eye level with Esclair, "believe it or not, I can relate to you there. When I was young, my family was raided by criminals as well. A Lawbringer had come to judge us, for there weren't enough men to protect everyone. Deciding that we were not worthy of protection, the Lawbringer doomed us to a fate worse than death.

And when the criminals came, my father was murdered, brothers enslaved, mother raped, and I was beaten. It was at that time that I realized people are separated into two groups: the predators and their prey. I realized I was of the latter, and in the following days, that would change. A group of stragglers came by one day. Seeing what happened to my family, they took me along and trained me to defend myself and the ones I loved. Training me to be a criminal, I joined their small group, but only for a small time.

"Leaving their group, I trained as a soldier for a short time. Later, I trained as a Warden. Leaving my previous legion, I created my own - the Blackstone Legion. Seeking out the Lawbringer who had doomed my family and me, I had found him. Of course, he was indulging himself with food, alcohol, and promiscuity. I didn't hesitate as I killed him. Taking his armor, I had it refitted to me. This armor used to be that fool's, but now it's mine. I had changed from the prey to their predator."

"So you do know?" Esclair asked. Nodding, the woman looked into Esclair's eyes.

"What's your name?" She asked with curiosity.

"Avice… Avice Esclair." The little girl responded hesitantly.

"Hello, Avice," She smiled underneath her helmet, "I'm Apollyon."

* * *

The sun rose on the horizon, shining brightly on Vector Outpost. It was a bright morning when Esclair climbed out of her bed. Getting dressed in her Warden's armor, she exited her room and entered the courtyard where Forge stood. He was talking to another man, who was atop a horse. Thinking that he was a messenger, Esclair approached the two. Noticing her entrance, Forge turned to her.

"Good. You're awake," Forge said as he dismissed the man atop the horse, "I have an assignment for you."

"What is it?" Esclair asked, her voice still tired. Obviously not wanting to waste any time, she skipped the introductions.

"We have reports of some Samurai spies moving throughout the edge of the forest," Forge began, "this messenger is from the Blackstone Fortress. Apollyon has requested that you do this mission specifically."

"Me?" Esclair was somewhat shocked that Apollyon wanted her to do it specifically. Forge nodded to the question.

"She wants you to start immediately," Forge added, "because of this, we already prepared your horse with rations for a few weeks."

Esclair sighed and agreed to go; even though she couldn't have disagreed. Leading her to the horse, Forge watched her as she got onto it.

"Good luck, Esclair," Forge said. It was an odd thing for him to say, as they didn't have a great friendship. Nonetheless, Esclair thanked him for the sentiment. Afterwards, she kicked the horse, ran out the gates, and went forth on her mission.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This chapter's original character, Avice Esclair, belongs to MissBlackRock. I am still accepting original characters, so please keep submitting!**


	4. Chapter Three: The Renjiro Clan

The hallway was dimly lit, for the torches that laced the walls every few feet didn't give much light. Along with that, the thick walls prevented any kind of natural light from entering the fortress. The unembellished halls echoed the loud footsteps that belonged to the armored man and woman. Walking down to the grand hall, Holden Cross and Mercy were anxious about their report. Looking to Cross, Mercy was curious why he was so anxious. _It's not like we've done a thing._ She thought. _It was that buffoon's fault._

"Why are you so anxious, Cross?" Mercy asked the Lawbringer, "it's not like we're the ones who are responsible."

"Because, Mercy," Cross responded, "if we have failed one mission, Apollyon may never trust us with anything again. Not to mention that she may even appoint new lieutenants."

Shaking her head, Mercy laughed, "you're overthinking this."

"I certainly hope so," Cross said as they turned the corner, entering the grand hall. The large room was empty, save for Ademar, who was bent over a large stone table with a map. Hearing the footsteps of the Lawbringer and Peacekeeper, Ademar rose to his full height and turned to them.

"Welcome Cross, Mercy," Ademar's gaze rested on Mercy before continuing, "I'm glad you could make it."

"Indeed," Cross responded quickly, sensing the tense atmosphere. Ademar didn't trust Mercy and vice versa, so he rarely ever allowed the Peacekeeper into meetings. Because of her stealth and fighting capabilities, however, the Warden kept her around. Ademar, who stayed silent throughout the introductions, stood up and gestured to the map. And even though he was a second to Holden Cross, his strategic mind and the way he looked at everything earned him a place as one of the Blackstone Legion's tactician.

"Two days ago, Shonto Fortress was attacked and Verecto Shonto died," The Warden pointed to a certain area on the map that was marked with a red marking, "before the assassin got away, we noticed that a symbol that matches the Renjiro clan's symbol on them. This is important, for the Renjiro clan has just committed an act of war against the Blackstone Legion."

"And why does this concern us?" Mercy asked as she crossed her arms.

"Because, Mercy," Ademar stated, "we want you to go an assassinate Tetsuo Renjiro, who is the leader of the Renjiro clan. Without him, the clan's generals will all attempt to take his place, leaving the clan divided amongst themselves. That is when Cross is going to go and put an end to the clan, leaving no Shinobis behind."

"I see," Cross said as he looked over the map one last time, "when should we get started?"

"Tonight," Ademar responded quickly, "get prepared, Mercy, for you are the most vital piece of the puzzle right now."

* * *

The sun had just risen over the distance when Nakasone had awoken. She had been resting the night before. Actually, that's not entirely true, for she had stayed awake for hours devising her plans of infiltration. She had only created a rough plan: travel to the Blackstone Fortress, use the cover of night to enter through the archer posts, and find out what she can. _This plan is crap._ Nakasone thought. Currently, she was camping in the Myre. Specifically, she was close to the border of the Myre and Ashfeld. And as the muddy forests gave way to the green plains, Nakasone was hesitant to go, for she had never traveled this deep into Ashfeld.

Packing up her camp, Nakasone continued her trek to the Blackstone Fortress. Into the plains of Ashfeld, the Shinobi walked, hoping that there wouldn't be any merchants or soldiers. To her luck, the plains were completely empty at this time. From what she'd heard of Ashfeld, that was strange, for most of the different Knight's legions were marching around, searching for money to collect or land to conquer. Something definitely seemed strange to Nakasone.

As she made her way deeper into the belly of the beast, Nakasone saw more and more of the greedy and violent life of the Knights. From atop a roof in a small village that sat in the outskirts, the Shinobi watched as members of a legion, one that she didn't recognize, collected taxes from a woman, who appeared to be homeless. After the woman told the men that she didn't have any money to give, they slammed her with the hilt of their blade. Laughing, the men tore off her clothes and grabbed her by the arm, saying that they could use a new woman. As the woman tried to resist, one of the men slapped her across her face.

Something about that event made Nakasone fill with anger, as she couldn't stand and watch as the men dishonored the woman. Jumping from the roof, she landed onto one of the men. Slitting his neck quickly, she turned to the other man, who had recovered from the shock and assumed an offensive stance. Running at her with his blade high, he swung down, slicing the air where Nakasone had been standing before. Using the clumsy strike that left him off balance and unprotected, she planted her Kusarigama into his side. Tearing them out quickly, the man's flesh was almost completely gone. Screaming, the man made a last-ditch effort to enact his revenge: a large, overextended swing which the Shinobi easily dodged. Falling from the weight of the sword's sudden movement, the man toppled onto the muddy ground - dead.

Turning to the woman, Nakasone gave her a few coins, nodded, and ran down a back alley. In retrospect, that was a clumsy move. She shouldn't have allowed herself to be seen, seeing as this was an infiltration and spy mission. Even though this was true, she couldn't stand by and practically watch as a woman was forced by two men. The sun was plastered in the middle of the sky, becoming an obvious sign of midday, which was another bad thing. Because she was in the middle of an open street and it was midday, the Shinobi was sure that many of the civilians had seen her. Cursing under her breath, she scaled a small house. Perching herself on the roof, she allowed herself a quick breath.

And when the moon rose high in the sky the next night, flames in the distance caught Nakasone's eyes. They were too far away for her to see perfectly, but the sheer amount of torches told her that this was some kind of army. Deciding that it would be best to investigate the army, she started her walk towards the light.

As the Shinobi got closer, the number of men she could see was enormous. Two men held large flags with the Blackstone Legion symbol plastered proudly on them. Row after row and soldiers stood, waiting for the command of the man standing at the front. The man, who Nakasone presumed was the leader, was a tall Lawbringer. His armor was a dark grey with two large, ornate lion's heads on either of his shoulders. Holding a poleax, he watched the army before speaking.

" _My soldiers,"_ He addressed the army, _"tonight we head to the Myre to find the Renjiro clan. This clan is known for their stealth and dangerous Shinobis, so stay alert. In the Myre, there are plenty of Samurais that would be willing to take your head off at a moment's notice. If you see anyone with a sword, kill them. For the Blackstone Legion!"_

The army echoed the words and started their march to the Myre. _They're going to the Renjiro clan?_ Nakasone thought. _This is an act of war! I have to go and warn Tetsuo._ Quickly abandoning her previous assignment for one that she thought more important, she took off in a sprint. Thankfully, the night's shade covered her body and the echoes of the army covered her footsteps as she ran to the Myre.

* * *

The Myre was certainly a thick and wet forest. The thick trees didn't allow Mercy to see far into the Samurai's dwelling. Knowing exactly where the Renjiro clan was located, she was a good choice by Ademar for this mission. Mercy hated to admit it, but Ademar was a good tactician and strategist, for he had years of experience over her. Ademar and her had grown a distaste for each other from the moment they met. He looked down at those without significant purposes, as he saw himself higher than those with smaller intellects. Mercy, being new without any significant purpose until a year of service, was in that group of people, and if there was one thing that she hated more than anything, it was being put lower than others.

As she saw smoke on the horizon, Mercy knew that she was getting close to the Renjiro clan's main domain. The Renjiro clan's area was a few tents centered around a larger tent. The larger tent, which belonged to Tetsuo Renjiro, the clan's leader, was where she was headed. Sneaking around the largest tent, Mercy made her way to the back of it. Because of the thin walls that the tent held, she could hear Tetsuo speaking to one of his generals.

" _The spies that we sent haven't come back yet. I fear that they have been spotted and taken by the Blackstone Legion,"_ That voice belonged to the general, _"what shall we do, sir?"_

" _Damn,"_ Tetsuo responded angrily, _"we should've just let Nakasone handle this."_

A few seconds went by without any words, leading Mercy to peer into the large tent. Noticing that the general had left, she determined that it was time to make her move. As she peered into the tent, however, Tetsuo noticed that the structure shook. Curious, Tetsuo took out his kusarigama and carefully made his way to Mercy's position. _Shit._ Mercy thought. _He knows I'm here._ As Tetsuo made his way closer to the Peacekeeper, she took out her dagger and clutched it in her hand.

And when Tetsuo was right on top of Mercy, she quickly punctured the tent with her dagger. The dagger went through the tent and straight into Tetsuo's chest, causing him to scream in pain, which alerted the entire camp. Pulling the blade out and pushing it back in, the blade went into Tetsuo's chest again, fatally injuring him. When she pulled the blade out one last time, she went in an all-out sprint, hoping to outrun the Shinobi that would be chasing her.

"There's the assassin!" Yelled one of the Shinobis. As he did this, a few of them sprinted their way to her, gaining on her quickly. Mercy tried to push herself further, but when she realized that she couldn't outrun the lightweight Shinobi in her armor, she turned to fight. As soon as she stopped and turned, a Shinobi jumped at her, kusarigama in hand. He came down on her with a quick and strong force. Knowing that she couldn't deflect it, she rolled to the side, allowing the Shinobi to stumble on the ground because of the amount of force he put into his swing. Recovering just in time to dodge Mercy's blades, he rolled away so that there was plenty of feet between the two. Throwing one of his kusarigama, the chain wrapped itself around Mercy's arm. Before he could take advantage of it, however, she was the one to pull, forcing him to come to her. And as he stumbled forward towards her, Mercy plunged her dagger into the side of his neck, forcing him to tumble over, which let the Peacekeeper swiftly split the man's head from his body.

Not letting Mercy recover, an arrow swiftly plunged itself into the ground in front of her. As she was about to go after the archer, another Shinobi jumped on top of her, forcing the Peacekeeper onto the ground, which also caused her to drop her blade and dagger It was a good thing and a bad thing, for the archer wouldn't risk hitting her clan member whilst trying to hit Mercy, but on the contrary, however, there was a Shinobi trying to get a kusarigama into her body. The Shinobi, which was atop her, struggled to push the sharp blade of the Samurai into her side, for Mercy pushed as hard as she could against the Japanese man. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the Shinobi had drawn her bow and was ready to release. And as the arrow split the air, Mercy pulled the man, who was on top of her, to block the arrow for her. Hitting his chest, the archer's arrow pierced his heart, making his body go limp.

Throwing the body off of her, Mercy turned her attention to the last Shinobi, who had already retrieved another arrow from her quiver. Throwing one of her smoke grenades onto the ground, Mercy disappeared from the archer's view. The archer, who was keeping her bow drawn, had fallen completely silent, for she was listening for the Peacekeeper. Hearing a shuffling on a tree in front of her, she immediately released the arrow, which she saw punctured an empty branch as the smoke was clearing. Suddenly, Mercy jumped down onto the archer with her dagger, piercing the woman's skull with the tip of the blade.

Finally allowing herself a breath, Mercy collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. After a few minutes, she made her way back to the Blackstone Fortress in Ashfeld. She had completed her mission. Now, there was only one thing left to do: let Cross move into the Myre and decimate the Renjiro clan.


	5. Chapter Four: Negotiations and Invasions

The large courtroom was filled to the brim with silence as a speaker stood on the podium. The cape falling to just above his ankles, the crimson piece of cloth was plastered with a proud symbol: a golden lion with a luscious black mane. Geraix Rera's slicked black hair and navy blue eyes gave him a handsome appearance. He was a tall man of about six and a half feet. Even though he was young, he controlled the crowd with a powerful voice.

"The House of Rera mourns the loss of my father," Rera addressed the crowd, "as one of Ashfeld's most powerful and influential houses, however, we can't let this loss of life affect what we are doing, for if we falter, the world will falter. And as my father would have wanted, for it is what he decreed, I shall take his place as the Head of the House of Rera. I know that this position comes with many expectations and for good reason, but I promise that I will do my best in this position. Thank you."

The speech garnered many cheers and goodwill from the audience. Rera smiled to the crowd and walked off the podium. He smirked to himself. _I certainly have quite the audience._ Rera thought. _Though, I shouldn't be surprised, as I am a Rera._ Looking to the crowd, he was proud of his accomplishments. And as Rera stood there admiring his achievement, one of his advisors came and stood next to him.

"You must proud of your accomplishments," His advisor said as he took a step next to the speaker, "but don't forget about your true mission, Geraix. You must still exp-"

"I know," Rera cut him off, "you don't need to pester me."

"Anyway," Said the advisor, who was rolling his eyes, "there's someone who wants to meet with you, Geraix."

Nodding, the Centurion turned to walk down the elegant hall. Large paintings depicting different heads of the House of Rera, which were framed with thick golden frames, hung on the walls every now and then. Geraix Rera hadn't yet received his own, but it would be one of the first things he'd do as Head of the House. As he turned the corner, he noticed that the doors that led into the conference room were slightly ajar.

Pushing them open, Rera entered the room where a single woman sat. Her armor and a helmet that sat on the table beside her gave her the look of a Warden. Furthermore, the black and orange skull, helmet, and sword made her one that worked for the Blackstone Legion. A long ponytail of blonde hair fell from her head and onto her back. Two bright blue eyes took in the sight of the Centurion. Looking into her eyes, Rera noticed that she had been waiting for a little while. _She's quite the beautiful specimen._ Rera thought as he looked at her.

"May I help you, miss?" Rera asked as he walked further into the room. Standing from her seated position, the Warden looked to the Centurion.

"I am a representative from the Blackstone Legion," She started, her soft voice showing that she was experienced somewhat with negotiating, "we want you to ally yourself with us, for we have much to offer you and you can offer us some backing."

"But why would I do such a thing?" Rera was experienced enough to know exactly what most people came here for: money. The Blackstone Legion, however, was a different thing, for they had almost whatever they wished for, so it was a little strange to see the Blackstone Legion at his doorstep.

"We can offer you protection, land, money, whatever you wish," As the woman spoke, her voice became more and more commanding, but not as much as many other men and women, "in return, you shall allow us to pass through your land. Along with that, you will provide us with men and/or financial backing if needed."

It would be foolish to deny anything from the Blackstone Legion, for they would decimate his House if he rejected. Rera had studied the Blackstone Legion for years before his father died. Because of his higher education, he had the opportunity to stay out of the more common war-centric lives those before him lived, but rather the political-centric life that he had chosen.

"I suppose that there's not much of a choice, is there miss…" Walking to the girl, he rose his eyebrow, "I don't think you've told me your name, ma'am."

"It's Esclair... Avice Esclair," The Warden said as she crossed her arms, "you're Geraix Rera. It would be hard to not know who you are."

"My reputation precedes me, I assume?" Rera said as he laughed, "is that all, my dear?"

"No," Esclair denied, "there was another thing. We have reports of an Orochi running through your land. We were wondering if you have any information, for we believe that this Samurai is a spy."

"I'm not sure if I know anything about that," Rera hummed as he thought about any strange characters he had seen, "if you need any resources or help with this task, however, I'm at your command, madam."

"I see," It was odd for a man in a prestigious position to offer himself to work instead of his men. Especially that this man was Geraix Rera, a well-known entitled Centurion. Doubtful of his methods, Esclair almost denied his offer, but she realized that he could come in helpful for whenever she needed him, "if anything comes up, I shall consider."

"Understood," Rera extended his arm towards Esclair, waiting for her to take it, saying, "it's a deal then?"

Nodding, the woman took his hand, releasing it shortly afterward. As she released her hand from his grip, she returned it to rest on her longsword, which fell idly from her belt. After thanking him for the presence, the Esclair left. As Rera returned back to the courtroom, the silence and emptiness of the room hit him immediately. Sighing, he walked into his own chamber, for he was tired after the long day of inductions. Letting the sleep consume him, his thoughts rested on the future of the House of Rera.

* * *

The Blackstone Legion marched through the Myre, torching the trees as they went. The army proudly displayed the flags which contained their infamous symbol. The men marched under the night sky, which was filled with the Myre's burning wreckage. Observing these ruthless men, an Orochi, who was known as Eichii Goeman, cursed underneath his breath. He hated the Blackstone Legion, for they were murderers, rapists, thieves, and everything that was wrong with men and women.

Goeman was an Orochi who didn't have a loyalty to any man, woman, or clan. Instead, he was loyal to the Samurai peoples as a group, not clinging to any of the clans. The young man used to be an arrogant and prideful warrior, for he had defeated almost all those who had come before him. At his peak, Goeman was sent to lead a campaign against a well-known clan, which was simply known as the Clan. Defeating Goeman after a swift skirmish, they brought the Orochi to his knees.

Instead of killing him, as many would have thought, the Clan let him go, explaining that they believed that they could restore the Samurai faction's greatness and power if the clans were diminished and became one. Amazed by the Clan's perspective and mercy on things, Goeman deserted his original clan, which was the Arashi clan, and changed his allegiance to the Samurai peoples, not clans.

Looking to the army, Goeman knew that he couldn't fight against the Blackstone Legion alone. He hated to run from a fight, but he knew that attacking these men would be idiotic. Cursing under his breath as he turned and ran back into the thick forest, he headed back to the Emperor's presence.

As he ran through the Myre, Goeman noticed a smaller flame. It came from many meters away. If it was a knight, what was this one doing so far from the Blackstone Legion? Deciding to check it out, he cautiously made his way through the forest. Pushing through the thick brush of trees, he got closer to the campsite. Looking into the small camp, a fire rested in the middle of a small clearing. A single-person grey tent stood off to the side as a horse chewed on some grass a few feet away. Hearing a crunch, Goeman instinctively ducked his head below a thick bush. Peeking out, he peered as a Warden walked back towards the fire, taking a seat on a large rock.

The female Warden was Blackstone Legion, for she had their crest and colors. Her helmet rested off to the side, allowing Goeman to take a mental picture of her face: two bright blue eyes rested on the fire, watching its flames; a blonde ponytail ran its way down to halfway down her neck; her good posture and fit body's shadow reflected off the fire. To the Orochi, she seemed like she had years of experience from the way she handled her weapon.

As the Warden sat on the rock, sharpening her blade, Goeman was confused: what was she doing so far from the main Blackstone Legion force? Deciding that he could take the fight, the Orochi made his way to get the jump. Climbing a tree, Goeman analyzed the Warden. Currently, she sat, sharpening her blade, not seeming to know of his presence.

Jumping from the tree, Goeman's katana split the air as it made its way down towards her. Hearing the shuffling of leaves as the Orochi jumped, the Warden immediately dove out of the way, landing a few feet away from where the katana hit the rock. Recovering from the dive, the Warden grabbed her longsword and positioned herself defensively, looking to the Orochi. The Orochi's eyes her exposed from behind the mask, allowing the Warden to see into his oddly colored eyes - one of his brown eyes gave way to a milky grey. A large cut went down his left eye, presumably a war scar leaving him blind. Recognizing the eye, the Warden realized who this was: this was the Samurai spy who she had been searching for.

The bright sun rose on the horizon, shining on the two grizzled warriors. Running at each other, their swords raised high, the blades clashed with a ringing sound that echoed throughout the Myre.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! I was having computer trouble, so I couldn't update. Anyway, two OCs were introduced here: MakeMeOrBreakMe's Orochi, who is known as Eichii Goeman, and onyxwhip's Centurion, who is known as Geraix Rera. Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter Five: Trust and Doubt

The clash rang throughout the Myre, echoing off the thick trees and canopy. Sweat rolled down their heads as the large sun rose in the horizon, shining brightly on the man and woman. Their eyes locked as their grips on the hilts of their swords tightened. The Warden attacked Goeman, forcing him to take a defensive stance. The Warden's blows were powerful and calculated, which surprised Goemen, as he saw the Blackstone Legion as a clumsy yet powerful legion.

"I do not come to fight!" Goeman saw the split second of shock be replaced by disbelief in the Warden's warm blue eyes. After a few half-seconds of watching the Orochi, the Warden approached with her second attack. The longsword came down powerfully upon Goeman's katana. Barely able to compete with this Warden's strength, the Orochi carefully slid his katana from under the blade and rolled back from the woman, causing her sword to pierce the dirt ground, "listen to me, Blackstone! I only want to talk!"

"Never you spy!" The Warden screamed as she pulled the sword from the ground's clutch. _Spy?_ Goeman thought. _Shit._ Recognizing that she was taking a strong swing from her right, Goeman blocked the powerful blade but was thrown back by the sheer force. Tumbling onto the ground, the Orochi lost the grip on his katana, letting it fall to his side. Noticing that the man had lost his weapon, the Warden kicked the blade away from him and forced the tip of hers onto the man's throat, not yet piercing the skin.

"What do you know of the Blackstone Legion?" The woman yelled at Goeman, pushing the blade slightly further into the Orochi's skin, but not enough to cause bleeding. Noticing the moonlight reflecting off a glint just beyond the clearing, Goeman looked at the Warden, his lips pursed. Suddenly, two small blades pierced the Warden's back as a Shinobi had jumped from the bushes and onto the Blackstone legionnaire.

"Fuck!" The Warden screamed in pain and clawed at the Japanese woman on her back. Finally getting the Shinobi off her back, the Warden turned to her, sword raised in her hand. Taking a clumsy swing, which the Japanese woman easily dodged, left her unstable. Still in an agonizing pain from the slashes and cuts that the Shinobi had given her, the Warden was left off balance, trying to recover.

Kicking the katana back over to the Orochi, the Shinobi prepared her stance against the now recovered Warden. Getting off the ground whilst grabbing the katana's handle, Goeman positioned himself next to the unknown ally and got ready for an attack from the Blackstone. The Warden turned to the Samurai duo with angered eyes.

"I don't know who either of you asshats are," The Warden yelled in anger, "but you will both soon be trophies on Apollyon's wall!"

The Warden rushed the two Samurais with a collection of strong and swift blows that left the two Japanese warriors off balance on multiple occasions. The Warden's longsword and Orochi's katana collided as the Shinobi made her efforts to knock the strongly armored knight off her feet. Digging her feet into the ground, the knight pushed against Goeman's katana, trying to leave him unable to fight so she could deal with the other Samurai. Unable to push against the Warden's superior strength, the Orochi retrieved a small bottle from his belt. Throwing it on the ground, a burst of smoke erupted, leaving the Warden to abandon her advance, as she couldn't see anything.

Jumping away from the Warden, Goeman rolled away and recovered. The Shinobi took advantage of the smoke bomb and jumped into the blind spot, attacking the Warden furiously. Because the Warden's face was exposed, the Shinobi immediately took to it, slicing and cutting it without avail. Kicking her longsword out of the Blackstone's hand, the young Japanese woman jumped from the Warden, leaving her without any weapon.

Turning back to the two Samurai, the Warden growled. Clenching her hands into fists, she threw a powerful punch. Dodging the attack, Goeman whipped around at a quick speed and sliced across the Warden's metal side plates. Throwing her gauntlet around, she struck the Orochi across the side of his head. Spinning on his foot, the Japanese man stumbled back, not yet falling to the ground.

Suddenly, a sharp pain manifested itself in the Warden's side. A kusarigama had planted itself in the exposed part where her plates were connected. Following the chain that the blade was attached to, the blonde Knight looked at the Shinobi with a painful glare. With a tug on the chain from the Japanese woman, the Warden stumbled towards her. Another sharp pain entered her other side as she lost her footing. Screaming in pain, the Warden barely turned her head to look at the Orochi just releasing his grip on his katana, which had entered her side.

Taking one last swing, the Warden expended all of her energy. And with a quick punch to the woman's already bloodied nose, the Blackstone fell to the ground—unconscious.

* * *

Rain fell from the heavens in large quantities. The cold water tapping lightly against the ground, the sound built up quickly, its sound soon becoming overwhelmingly loud. Puddles soon formed outside a small cavern that had nestled itself into a hill. The cavern didn't go deep into the hill; rather, it had only gone down maybe seven yards into the hill. The cavern had previously served as a mining operation by the knights of Ashfeld. The project had been deserted since a large cave in had killed more than fifteen men. Now, the inner depths of the cavern had been boarded off, not letting anyone enter the caves.

Inside the cavern, torches fought against the night's consuming darkness. Boards had been put up, preventing anyone from entering the cavern's deepness. Two warriors were in the cave: one was sitting on the floor in bounds and the other looking out from the cavern's mouth. The first of the two, who was a Samurai Orochi, peered out from the cavern. He was tired. That was sure, but he couldn't go to sleep, as he was afraid that the prisoner would take advantage of his unconscious state.

Looking to the prisoner, the Orochi observed her. Now that he had gotten a closer look at her, she was certainly different than he had first presumed. She was much calmer and reasoning than the brutish and aggressive Warden that he had fought earlier. Her hardened face had given away to softer features as she had realized that there was no hope of escape. Two blue eyes refused to even look at the Samurai and her blonde hair had been dirtied from being pushed against dirt and rocks. Nevertheless, the Warden was a beautiful sight to behold.

"What's your name?" The Orochi asked, breaking the silence. His voice directed the blonde's attention to him. Looking at him with a somewhat angry face, she growled. Chuckling, the Samurai walked towards the woman. Kneeling down to look eye-to-eye with her, he looked into her bright blue eyes, "don't act that way. If you're going to trust me, I'm going to need to trust you."

"I'll never trust you," The woman scorned and looked away from his strangely colored eyes. She was angry—and perhaps rightfully so—as she had been humiliated and defeated by what she thought as the weakest faction. To her, the Knights were the strongest, as they had some of the largest lands, most advanced technology, and of course, bias; next, the Vikings were, to her, the second most powerful, for they had many numbers, stronger men, and superior sea warfare; and finally, the Samurai were the weakest to the Warden, as they were mostly landlocked, had become secluded, and they mostly were stuck up in the ancient ways. "By the way, Samurai, you will never make me talk."

"Let's see about that," The Orochi grinned and stood to his full height. Looking back down at the woman a last time, he sighed. She certainly was a stubborn Blackstone—something that was extremely beneficial, as she was unlikely to give away important information. Speaking of, being Blackstone meant that she had some kind of information on why her legion was in the Myre. It certainly was a strange thing for the knights of Ashfeld to invade the Samurai for no clear reason.

"You should get some rest," The Samurai told the woman as he walked back to the cavern's mouth. He could feel the Warden's glare on his back as he stepped away from her.

"How do I not know that you will not rape me when I am asleep, Orochi?" The woman struck him with a distrustful, almost hateful voice. Without turning to the woman, he chuckled. "Also, where did your friend Shinobi go?"

"Firstly, Warden, you shall call me Goeman, as that is my surname," The Orochi said. Turning the warrior, he shook his head. "Secondly, do you think that you have the right to interrogate me by asking questions? It is I that has defeated you. It is I that has imprisoned you. And it is I that will ask the questions."

The woman growled at the man. _How dare he speak to me like that?_ The Warden thought. _This lowly Samurai dares to speak to me as he does? Does this Samurai's boastfulness know no bounds?_ Thinking of Goeman's tone only made the Warden angrier. If it wasn't for the fact that she was tied to a thick support, she would have beaten the crap out of this Orochi. _These damn Samurai and their 'honor.'_ She thought.

"Warden," The man said in all seriousness, "I need your help. The Blackstone Legion is marching towards the Imperial City. I believe that they are planning to burn the city to the ground. They have already destroyed an entire region that once belonged to the Renjiro Clan. If they continue their way further into the Myre, the Samurai will have no choice but to retaliate. If this happens, we have no doubt that this will turn into an all-out bloody war between the Samurai of the Myre and the Knights of Ashfeld."

"Impossible," The woman said, turning to look at Goeman. If what he said was true, his theory could very well turn to be the truth. The worst possible outcome could be what he described. Contrary to the fact that she was Blackstone, the Warden didn't want war to be the only thing in the world. She believed that war should only take place if necessary. And if the Blackstone marched toward Imperial City with intention of bringing war, then she couldn't stay on this side for long. "The Blackstone Legion wouldn't do this. They only engage if completely necessary."

"That's not what their actions say," Goeman said, crossing his arms, "if you do not believe me, I will take you to the Imperial Mountain Pass. I have no doubts that the Blackstone Legion will be making their way there now. In fact, we might already be too late."

"Take me to the Imperial Mountain Pass?" The Warden asked. The Imperial Mountain Pass, which was known as IMP, was the most direct way to reach Imperial City. Unless you were going to go by sea, IMP was the only way to get in. It was heavily guarded and narrow, making it a strong natural gate for the city. "Why would I trust you?"

"I believe that you know why," The Orochi said as he took a step closer to the Warden. Kneeling to level his eyes with her, he looked into her blue eyes, "you don't want this war to come—perhaps more than me. I know that you believe me. You've seen the horrors of war. You've seen what can happen because of it. You never want any other man, woman, or child to go through what you've been through."

Closing her eyes, the Warden couldn't deny it. She had been through much. Her parents, her friends, everything. They had all died when the Vikings attacked. She wished that war could just be a thing that happened only when absolutely necessary. When the Vikings attacked, the young girl she used to be could tell that this was a sport to them—they couldn't care less about the villagers. Fighting against tears, the woman nodded.

Suddenly, the woman heard a click and felt her shackles go limp on her wrists. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see the Orochi unlocking the chains that held her hands. Standing to his full height as the bindings fell to the floor, the man offered the Warden his hand. Carefully taking it, she let the Samurai help him up from the floor. Even though she was still wary of Goeman, the woman had no choice but to trust him for the time being.

"I still haven't your name," Goeman said as the Warden dusted herself off. Looking to the man, she thought if she should even trust him for the moment.

"Esclair," The Warden finally said, accepting that giving her name would be the first step to a greater trust.

* * *

Looking back to the burning village that belonged to the Renjiro Clan, the Peacekeeper sighed. _Why am I here?_ The thought bounced around in her head, not yet receiving an answer she desired. _If this is what is needed for true peace, will it be worth it? The Blackstone Legion says that the only way to peace is to place the other factions under our heel. With the world in our palm, they will have to abide by our laws, our rules, our desires. This is the only way to peace. But is it?_

This Peacekeeper, who was known as Dahlia Thorn, had doubts. Though she was not the only one with them, she was the only one who thought of doing something about the Blackstone Legion's aggressive behavior. Like many others, Thorn didn't want war. She only wanted to keep the peace between factions. It was a pure thought at the beginning. As the time grew on, however, the thought became perverted. The Blackstone cause—the thought that war was the only true way to peace—seeped its way into Thorn's way of thinking, changing her wish from keeping the peace to creating war.

Years after doing the Blackstone Legion's misdeeds, here she was, watching her original wishes and hopes cling on for their last hope. Thorn had forgotten her original motivations when she had joined Apollyon and her Blackstone Legion. The only reason she kept going was that she believed that the Samurai were rightful of this punishment. She thought that the Samurai culture was an unstoppable force that couldn't even stop themselves from beheading each other.

" _Thorn!"_ The man who called her name, who was known as Janus Tyro, snapped the young Peacekeeper from her thoughts. Looking to the trail that the Blackstone Legion made, she started to walk towards the marching soldiers. Catching up to the Warden, she strode by him. She didn't like many of the other warriors in the Blackstone Legion. She found them rather annoying: the Lawbringers, such as Holden Cross, intimidated her because of their large size, thick armor, and brutal fighting style; the Gladiators, to her, only fought for the fame and glory; the Centurions lived to fight everything to death to prove their superiority; the Wardens stood for similar causes as the Lawbringers, but Thorn believed that their oaths blinded them into battles that didn't need to be fought. To her, the only warriors that she found comfort in were other Peacekeepers, as they usually kept things low-key.

Tyro, however, was a different case. The Warden always saw things through others' eyes. Thorn believed that his motive was through and through righteous. He simply wanted to help humanity—something that not many other people sought to do. She had grown an unlikely friendship with her superior, as they saw eye-to-eye on many things. One of those being war. To both of them, war was only something that was absolutely necessary. If it could be avoided, it should be. To the two Blackstone Legionnaires, it was something that was glorified in the eyes of hundreds of thousands of men across the three factions.

"Anything wrong, Dahl?" The man inquired as he walked beside her. Dahl. It was a nickname that he had given her early in their friendship. He was the only one that Thorn had ever considered a best friend. That was because she believed that creating a bond with someone—whether that be romantic or simply friendship, as it was with Tyro—was extremely dangerous.

"Nothing," She responded quickly. Looking to the Warden as she walked beside him, Thorn took in his features. Two brown eyes narrowed themselves as he looked upon the large force that marched through the Myre; brown hair sat atop his caucasian head in a messy, uncombed mess; his height was nearly one and a half that of Thorn, forcing her to look up at him when talking to the Warden.

"I highly doubt that," His silky voice responded. Putting his hand on the Peacekeeper's shoulder, he stopped her. Before turning to Thorn, Tyro motioned to one of the soldiers to notify that they were stopping for a few minutes. Turning to look at the woman, he took in her physicality: she was short of slightly taller than five and a half feet; two side-swept burgundy bangs accompanied two braids that rested upon her breasts; a small nose, deep light brown eyes, and angled eyebrows allowed anyone to read her emotion fairly easily. All of this resting upon a petite, sleek, and young body, she fit the stature of a Peacekeeper perfectly. "Now. What is it?"

"It's just that I'm having doubts about this method," Thorn admitted after a sigh. It was true: she was having doubts if the Blackstone Legion was doing the right thing. "Do you think that this is a worthy cause? I mean that if we were to succeed in this mission against the Samurai, do you think that we will be hailed as heroes or selfish warlords?"

"I don't know," The young man answered. Thorn knew that this would be his answer, but she only wished that they could at least work something out. Instead of waging war against the bloodthirsty Samurai, perhaps they could negotiate with them. She didn't like the Japanese as much as the next Blackstone, but she believed that there was a way around this issue without bloodshed.

"Yeah, neither of us knows the outcome," Thorn sighed once again, "and that's what I'm afraid of."

"I am too," Suddenly, Tyro wrapped his hand around her shoulder with a smile, "how about we go catch up with the rest of the soldiers and we can have something to eat. God! It looks like you haven't eaten in weeks!"

"Very funny, Janus," Thorn looked at the man as he tried to divert the conversation from getting any heavier on the Peacekeeper's consciousness. She appreciated the sentiment, but she believed that she'd have to face it sometime: sooner or later. However, she just went along with Tyro and laughed at his joke.

"Come on, Dahl, let's go." His hand still on her shoulder, Tyro led them back to the marching soldiers. As she walked with the Warden, Thorn's mind was filled with that one troublesome question: _Am I doing what I should be doing right now?_ The answer would come sooner or later. Sooner than later.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So that was chapter five. The OC in this chapter, Dahlia Thorn, was created by Pristine Dahlia. The character Janus Tyro was a fill-in character, so he won't be taking a central role in the story.**

 **Regarding the poll, thanks to all those who voted on it! The overall decision was longer chapters, so that's what I plan to do.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter Six: Common Enemies

The narrow Imperial Mountain Pass rested just ahead of the Blackstone Legion's camp. Looking down the muddy road, the young Peacekeeper sighed. She still couldn't understand her Legion's motives. Nonetheless, she pressed on into the night. Holden Cross, the one who had been put in charge of this mission against the Imperial City, had sent Thorn ahead of the trail to scout if there were any Samurai outposts, camps, or stragglers. Apollyon's right hand had always over thought things. He was always cautionary—perhaps too much so.

Not wanting to expose herself by being in the middle of the path, she made her way through the thick forest that rested beside the dirty way. Her boots splashing up the dirty water as she ran, Thorn rushed through the maze of trees and bushes. She made sure to stop every few yards to crouch behind a bush or rock. This made sure that she could take a longer time to make sure that she hadn't missed anything. The worst thing that could happen would be to be taken hostage by the Samurai and have her information be forced out of her. And as the Peacekeeper trekked through the Myre, the moon sat high in the sky, not giving in to the light of day yet.

Stopping behind a bush in the dead of night, Thorn let herself rest for a few moments, making sure to listen for any footsteps in the forest. Hearing nothing but the stridulating of the crickets, she pressed on through the night. The darkness almost consuming, the Peacekeeper's only light was that of the moon. Moving through the cover of night, it was unlikely that she would have been spotted by any rogue Samurais. And from the darkness, a peculiar sound emerged, forcing Thorn to stop where she was and crouch behind a bush. Her heart beating quickly, the Knight listened for a sound. Peeking over the bush, she saw a large flame in the distance. The noise sounded like laughter in the distance. Determining that it must have come from the fire's surrounding area, she made her way towards it.

Making her way toward the burning sight, the Peacekeeper made sure to keep low to the ground, hiding in tall grass and behind bushes when available. She continued her way until it led to a small clearing where the trees, shrubs, and grass had given way to rocky grounds. A large circle of stones rested in the middle of the clearing. And inside that circle of stones, one of the largest fires Thorn had ever seen rose high into the sky. Moving from the cover of the trees, she cautiously approached the fire. Looking into the blinding light, she rose an eyebrow beneath her metallic helmet. Out of the surrounding darkness, the crunching of leaves, rustle of branches, and the scraping of metal emerged. Turning her back swiftly to the fire, the Peacekeeper scanned the forest. Cursing at herself for abandoning the cover of trees, she quickly retrieved her dagger from its scabbard.

In an instant, an armored Japanese warrior jumped from the darkness. His heavy body collided with Thorn's smaller, sending them tumbling to ground beside the fire. Raising herself from the ground, the Peacekeeper quickly positioned herself in a defensive stance as the heavy man pushed himself off the dirt. The man was large and dressed in thick plating. A red mask clung to his face beneath a golden helmet. The amount of gold on this man's armor made her believe that he was experienced, causing Thorn to be hesitant. Taking a step away from the Kensei, her grip on her dagger tightened as she let out a breath. The man's brown eyes narrowing at the Peacekeeper, she put one foot behind her and prepared to leap at the Kensei. Pushing from the ground, she leapt into the air. At the peak of the jump, she threw her dagger at the Kensei, piercing the man's light armor on his shoulder. Stumbling back, the Kensei cursed and pulled the dagger from his shoulder, throwing it to the side.

Growling, the warrior rushed at Thorn, unleashing a volley of attacks. Rolling back from the advance, the Peacekeeper was wary from the powerful strikes, taking extra care to dodge the powerful swings. The Samurai's blade tore through the air just shy of her, missing the lightly armored Knight. Retreating backward until there was a good distance between the two warriors, Thorn clutched her second weapon tightly. Breathing heavily, the Knight and Samurai glared at each other, their eyes resting on each other for a second or two. Edging forward, the Peacekeeper swiftly pushed herself against Kensei's large body, sending him back in a short stun. In this minuscule amount of time, the Peacekeeper fell to the floor and swept the man's feet from under him, sending the Kensei to the ground. Grunting as the Peacekeeper jumped back to her feet, the Kensei swung his sword at Thorn's feet. Easily jumping over the sharp blade, she quickly delivered a swift kick to the Japanese man's face, knocking him unconscious.

"Knight!" A commanding voice grabbed the Peacekeeper's attention. Turning on her heel, Thorn took a step back as she looked at a small group of Samurai warriors. The group consisted of a Nobushi, two Orochi, and a Shinobi. The Nobushi was of average height and dressed in the same black and gold color as the Kensei that Thorn had just fought. Weapon pointed to the Peacekeeper, the Nobushi's wooden mask staring emotionless at the Peacekeeper. Both of the Orochi were wearing the black and gold of the Nobushi and Kensei, except that one of them had an extra crest atop their helmet, making Thorn believe that this was the leader. The golden, ornate crest was that of a dragon that expanded the length of the top of the Orochi's helm. The Shinobi, like the others, was dressed in the black and gold. However, he cautiously approached the Kensei's body, making sure to keep his hands on his kusarigama.

"Surrender." The Orochi's voice commanded Thorn's attention. The grip on his katana tightened. Two brown eyes looked the young Knight up and down. _Not quite what I had expected, for I was expecting another woman from the Myre._ The man thought. _But she will do._ Noticing that Thorn still gripped her dagger and sword, the man took a step closer. "Surrender! Do this or you will surely die!"

The Shinobi, who was now kneeling at the body of the Kensei, stood and turned to the Peacekeeper. Looking her over, the Shinobi then turned his attention to the crested Orochi. Saying something in Japanese to the man, they had an exchange. After having the Shinobi say something to him, the Orochi thought of something and turned to Thorn. "You are Blackstone?"

"Yes." She quickly responded, trying not to upset the Samurai. Her mentality immediately went straight from confidence in her abilities to trying not to create any further altercations. Perhaps this mental shift was a good thing, for she was drastically outnumbered and she was recovering from the fight with the Kensei. Her hands tightened on her blades' handles as she scanned her possible opponents. Trying to avoid any kind of confrontation, she put the blades back in their respective scabbards. "We don't have to be enemies."

"Of course not!" The Orochi grinned and sheathed his sword. Approaching the Peacekeeper, he threw his arms around her shoulder. _What's happening?_ Thorn wondered. _This must be some kind of trick, but… it might not be._ Cautiously allowing the man to do this, she gazed over the rest of the Samurai. They relaxed from their offensive stances and watched the Knight. "Come. We have food and drink for you."

"I shouldn't. My group is waiting for my report." The Peacekeeper weakly protested. As soon as she said that the Orochi's face hardened. Raising an eyebrow, the Orochi removed his arms from around Thorn's shoulders. Crossing his arms, the grin on his face was replaced with a frown. Looking down at the Knight, he sighed.

"I'm sure that they wouldn't mind you to be a little late, would they?" He said, trying to persuade the woman. Resting his hand on his katana, he looked at Thorn and raised an eye. It was a subtle yet effective threat. Perhaps Thorn didn't notice it or maybe she did, but she sighed and shrugged. "Trust me."

Sighing, the Peacekeeper went along with the Samurai simply to avoid any confrontations. In all honesty, she would have most likely done anything to avoid a fight. She didn't believe in killing people; instead, she would try to go for weak points to incapacitate her enemies. Even though she hated the Samurai more than any other faction, she still refused to kill them if possible. Maybe it was her compassion speaking, but perhaps not all the Samurai were heartless murderers. Maybe she'd find out soon.

* * *

Nakasone stood in the remnants of the former Renjiro clan. Dead bodies were scattered across the wet ground in an unorganized mess of blood and mud. If only she had come immediately to the Renjiro clan to warn them of the Blackstone Legion's plans instead of fighting with that Orochi against the Warden, the clan might still exist. Even though that might have been a possibility, it didn't happen, so she'd have to keep moving forward, regardless of the possibilities. Clenching her hands into fists, she cursed under her breath.

She knew that she couldn't fight against the Blackstone Legion alone. She needed allies. Although she didn't have any allies in particular, she decided that she couldn't let the Blackstone Legion continue their rampage throughout the Myre with no opposition. Turning on her heel away from the Imperial City, Nakasone ran back to the area where she had fought with that Orochi. Perhaps he had contacts that could help her.

After running a few miles, the Shinobi encountered the area where she had fought the Warden with the man. Nakasone cursed as she looked around the area, not seeing the man. Observing the grounds, she noticed a pair of footprints with a long line between as if someone had been dragging something… or someone. Smirking, the Japanese woman started running that direction, hoping to stumble upon the man and his prisoner.

As she approached the base of a hill, she heard talking coming from the cavern. Confused, the Shinobi cautiously approached the cavern's mouth. Peering inside, the cave was dimly lit, as the only source of light was that a single lantern standing atop a flat rock. Thick wooden poles supported the heavy weight of the cave's rock roof. Wooden boards were nailed to two boards along the back wall. These prevented any travelers or scavengers from entering the depths of the caves. Sitting atop two rocks, an Orochi and a Warden talked to each other. Observing that these people were the man and woman that she had fought with and against respectively, Nakasone rolled her eyes and entered the cave, coughing as she did so, for she wanted their attention.

"What are you doing?" Nakasone questioned as she entered the cave. Goeman turned from a map that was spread across a flattened rock. Looking to the Shinobi, he looked somewhat surprised that she was here. Walking to Nakasone, he raised an eyebrow.

"Strategizing. What are you doing here?" Goeman answered. "I thought you were with the Renjiro clan?"

"They've been terminated. The Blackstone Legion pushed through the Myre and decimated the camp. I'm not sure if there are any others or if I'm the only one left." The Shinobi admitted. It was true. She wasn't sure if there were any more Renjiro clan members left throughout the lands. In her mind, she was the last one left.

"I see. I'm sorry." Goeman said, trying to comfort the Shinobi, even though she didn't seem distraught. To the Orochi, the fall of the Renjiro clan seemed like something that would have never happened. Even though it, to an extent, furthered his goal of uniting the Samurai people, he could help but feel sad for the Shinobi. It was almost the only family that she had ever known, so losing it must have been hard on her.

"Nevermind that. What are you doing with this Warden?" Nakasone questioned, still trying to push back tears from the previous conversation.

"We're forming a plan. I'm going to take her to the Imperial Mountain Pass to show her the true side of the Blackstone Legion." Goeman explained. As Nakasone thought of the words that the Orochi had just said, she was shocked.

"Are you fucking crazy? She's a Blackstone!" Nakasone argued just low enough that the Warden, who was still looking upon the map, couldn't hear her. She was angry at the idiocy of the Orochi. _How could this man be so fucking stupid?!_ She thought to herself.

"I know what I'm doing, Nakasone." He sounded confident, but that wasn't enough to ease the woman's anger.

"I sure do fucking hope so." She said angrily, "You do realize that this is probably a trap, right?"

"I don't believe it is." Goeman responded quickly. _Hopefully, he's right._ She thought. _If not, the entire Samurai people are going be at the mercy of the most violent warlord across the factions._ "If she is against us, then I will take full blame, but I think that she's coming around to the true reality of the Blackstone Legion."

"Fine." Nakasone said, crossing her arms. "I still don't trust her, so I'm coming along. If she does anything that could jeopardize this, I'm killing her."

"You're going?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. "I never took you as a team player, but I suppose that's fine."

"So what's the plan?" Nakasone finally spoke loud enough that the Warden could hear. At the sound of the Shinobi's voice, the Knight looked up and rose from the map. Crossing her arms, the Japanese woman waited for an answer from the woman.

"Uh… we have a plan, yes." The Warden motioned Nakasone over and pointed to a forested spot on the map. "The Blackstone Legion have frequent scouts entering the Myre ahead of them. It will be difficult to deal with these scouts, as they are usually some of the best trained men or women. If we can find a scout team that has ventured too far from their pack, we can take them out with a lessened chance of reinforcements. This may allow us to find a way around the main force of the Blackstone Legion. Once we're close enough, we can do some reconnaissance and gather information to bring back to whomever we want."

"I see." Nakasone said. She had to admit that this plan was probably better than anything that she could do. This Warden knew a lot more about the Blackstone Legion than the Shinobi, for she had been in it almost her entire life. She had even served directly under Apollyon at one point, so she was well-versed with the brutal legion. "However, if we hope to defeat the Blackstone Legion, we're going to need more than just three people."

"I think I can help with that." The Warden said confidently with a grin.

* * *

Her form moved with a perfect rhythm and time with his. His hardened body pushed against her soft, velvet-like one. She felt incredibly good to the Centurion. He had no romantic interests in her; rather, he had sexual desires for her body. It finally felt good to give into these feelings. There she was, sitting atop him. Providing him with a perfect image of her body, he moved his hands up and down her waist, finally resting them on her hips as she grinding against him.

Her soft moans made him feel better than before without them. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Groaning as he released inside of her, he looked upon her one more time. Grinning at her as she rested her against his chest, he rested there for a few minutes. Breaking the peaceful silence, a hesitant knock occurred against the door. Sighing, he moved the girl from atop of him with some struggle from the woman. Pulling back on his garb, he walked to the door. Opening it, he was greeted with a young man.

"May I help you?" Rera addressed the young servant. Crossing his arms, he waited for the response from the man. The servant was a young man who Rera hadn't seen all that much from around the land that he owned. The servant was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. He seemed much like a pauper or a lowly, poor boy from the outskirts.

"There's someone here to see you." The young man said immediately. From his voice, the boy sounded somewhat afraid. Raising his eyebrow, Rera sighed and nodded. Pushing past the servant, he walked down the stone and golden-engraved walls. Entering a large meeting room, he took in the sight of a single figure standing, back towards Rera. Turning around to face the Centurion, the figure was immediately recognizable. Black armor reflected the light that arose from numerous candles scattering the room. Dark hair rose from the top of an even darker helmet that screamed menace. This could only be a single person: Apollyon.

"May I help you?" Some of the confidence left the Centurion's voice as he stepped closer to the figure. His voice betrayed his well-kept demeanor. Watching the figure as she walked around the wooden table, he couldn't help but be terrified by her simple presence.

"Yes." Her voice was menacing and controlling. It spewed hatred and cunning. Turning on her heel to look at a painting that hung on the wall, she hummed. "Your lands will become our lands, Rera."

"What do you mean, Apollyon?" Rera said, trying to be the one in command in this conversation. Receiving nothing but a chuckle from the warlord, he felt a shiver make its way down his spine.

"I mean exactly what I said." Apollyon said, still keeping her back to the Centurion. "I'm taking control of this piece of land. Many Vikings and Samurai bring their trade in through the House of Rera, as it is one of leading powers in the trading industry. This means that the House of Rera could be a very valuable asset to the Blackstone Legion cause."

"I'm not going to simply give up my wealth and power simply because you want it!" The Centurion protested. Receiving another laugh from the warlord, the man thought of his words and cursed himself for possibly angering the woman. Turning from the painting she walked over to the man and put her hand on his shoulder. Her helmet's "eyes" peering into his own, Rera suddenly felt a sharp object push against his unarmored stomach. Looking down, he saw that Apollyon had pressed a knife against him. Stuttering, the man rethought of his words. "Something could probably be worked out…"

"Good. I knew you'd understand." Apollyon said with a laugh. Returning the knife to its scabbard, she walked past the man and out of the room, leaving Rera alone. Thinking about this encounter, he needed to do something about Apollyon. He couldn't just give his wealth and power away. He needed to take down the Blackstone Legion from their power.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So… sorry for making you wait about a month for this chapter, but my life got really hectic. I had to stop writing for a few weeks, but I should be back. I can't promise that chapter will be more regular. I think that they're going to be more sporadic and non-frequent. Nonetheless, I'll try to get them out as soon as possible. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	8. Chapter Seven: Siege

The large, gold-engraved palace walls did little to stop the force that was the Blackstone Legion. As the Knights marched upon the closed palace gate, the emperor within sat upon his throne, trying to find the right solution. The Blackstone Legion's forces were significantly larger than his own, so there was no chance of standing and fighting. However, to run would mean a fate worse than death in his eyes, as he would lose his honor as the emperor of the Myre. In the end, he decided to stay and face the Blackstone Legion in the walls of his palace.

The large palace gate was locked shut: something that would be expected when being sieged upon. The ground shook and quaked as a large battering ram was being pushed to the ornate gate. The battering ram stood more than twenty feet tall and sixty feet long. A large, handcrafted ram's head was attached to the end of the battering ram, giving the entire structure a menacing yet regal look. The ram slammed against the door with such a force that caused the entire door, including its hinges, to shake violently.

Within the walls, squadrons of soldiers lined up, preparing themselves for the oncoming onslaught. There was no doubt that the Samurai warriors, who had trained years for this exact moment, were nervous: hands tightened around hilts, sweat rolled down foreheads without fail, and not a single figure in this mass of soldiers stayed still. Contrary to what most would believe, many of the Samurai in this formation doubted their faction's ability to hold its ground. In addition to that, many started to think that running from the fight would be better than to fight a losing battle. Actually, some Samurai did abandon formation, much to the dismay to their leaders and fellow warriors. Regardless of whether they tried to run or not, it was too late for anyone.

With a loud crash, the doors to the palace swung open, swinging off their hinges and into the courtyard. In a sudden flash, the palace was filled with knights and samurai running into each other, their swords raised high and minds set for war. Within seconds, the ground was littered with blood and dead bodies. To any commoner, this would have been a sight of horror and disgust. To these warriors, however, this was a common image: men and women clinging onto their last breaths, crawling through the bloody puddles; some others even wanted the sweet release that death provided, as they wanted anything to end this constant torment and pain.

The Blackstone Legion's swords clashed with a deafening sound against the Samurai's. The Blackstone Legion, as expected, was winning this fight almost without losing too many men. Swords pierced hearts, broke bones, and took lives. Within minutes, the Samurai lost too many men to continue fighting. As the rest of the Samurai fell to the ground in a lifeless slump, the Blackstone Legion forced their way up the flight of stairs that led to the emperor's chamber.

Within that particular room, the emperor's elite guard, his personal trio of warriors who lived their lives for the emperor and swore upon an oath to die for him, prepared themselves to die for their ruler.

The chamber's doors swung open forcefully and Holden Cross, along with his own entourage of four men, entered. Instead of an immediate bloodshed that the Samurai had expected, Cross appeared to be in a giving mood: something that was rare for the Blackstone commander. As he removed his ominous helmet, the Lawbringer took a few steps forward before speaking.

"I do not wish for there to be any more bloodshed here, emperor." He said with a commanding voice. "If you do, then I will do as you wish, but I would rather find more uses for yourself and your warriors."

"This is an unexpected turn of events, Cross." The emperor said silently, not trying to raise the Blackstone's anger. "If this is truly what you wish for, why did you attack me? We are open for negotiations."

"A Samurai attacked a fortress within Ashfeld." Cross said after about a few minutes of thinking of the question. "This Samurai was identified to have belonged to the Renjiro Clan. This clan was revealed to have connections with your palace. We have reason to believe that you ordered this attack. We have responded to what we deem appropriate to this act of war against our faction."

"This is untrue, Blackstone!" The emperor refuted. "What reason would we have to foolishly attack Ashfeld? Much less the Blackstone Legion!"

"Fear." Cross answered quickly as he took another step forward, much to the anger of the emperor's guard. "Fear that we would have attacked you first. It's no secret that you're a fearful and cowardly emperor, so this course of action that you have taken does not surprise me. It's quite pathetic that you have resorted to causing a war, something that could have been totally avoided if you thought your actions through."

At this point, the emperor was completely fearful of what may happen. In response to this attack on his honor, the Samurai ordered his guard to attack. Doing what they were told they dashed forward in a flash towards the Blackstone commander standing at the entrance, ignoring the other four behind him. One of the elite guard, a Shinobi, threw her kusarigama at Cross, puncturing the area on his side where it wasn't as heavily armored, the man grunted in pain but quickly recovered. Grabbing the chain attached to the blade, he pulled it forward, causing the Shinobi to stumble forward, almost falling. And in a quick flash, the Lawbringer clenched his poleaxe and swung the hammer side down onto the Shinobi, killing her almost instantly.

As this fight was taking place, the other two Samurai attacked their outnumbering foes. In all honesty, there was no way that this fight would have ever tipped into the Samurai's favor. The Samurai fought a losing battle, and they knew it. Both Samurai, one Kensei and one Orochi, jumped forward at Cross. The Lawbringer took a step forward and thrust his poleaxe forward into the Orochi, stunning him for a second. Taking advantage of this, Cross turned on his heel and swung against the Kensei, piercing his right leg, almost taking it cleanly off. Screaming in pain, the Kensei fell to the ground, his leg dangling from just above what was left of his knee.

The Orochi had recovered by now and swung her katana in a wide berth, hitting the Knight's armored back. Unluckily, the katana deflected and didn't pierce the armor. Quickly turning from the Kensei's dying figure, the Lawbringer swung his armored hand around and struck the Orochi's lightly armored head, causing her to stumble back. As he turned fully to the Orochi, his hands wrapped around his trusty poleaxe, the Orochi herself recovered from the unexpected backhand, her own hands clenched around her katana's hilt.

Preparing his stance for his enemy's attack, Cross took a step back, ready to disarm the Orochi. Running forward at the Lawbringer, the Samurai jumped and kicked her enemy, who hadn't expected the maneuver. As the Knight stumbled back, the Orochi took advantage and sliced the katana against his chest. However, Cross's Lawbringer armor was too thick to allow him to be injured by the katana. Recovering from the kick, the Knight threw his head forward into the Orochi and crashed his weapon's pole against her head, causing her to be thrown against the ground. As the Orochi weakly tried to recover, she felt a heavy boot on her back, which was keeping her from getting up. Looking up at Cross with her eyes wide open, the last thing she saw was a blade being thrown down towards her head.

The emperor, who was stepping back in shock at the gruesome scene, covered his open mouth with his hands. Breathing heavily, Cross turned back to the last Samurai with a smirk upon his face.

"Shall we continue with the negotiations?"

* * *

It was too late. That much was sure. Faint signs of a presence here were all that was left of the Blackstone Legion at the Imperial Mountain Pass. Nakasone couldn't deny that she was scared for the fate of the Samurai Empire. If the Blackstone Legion already got through the Imperial Mountain Pass, there would be no chance that she could beat them to the Imperial Palace to warn the Emperor. Clenching her fists, she was angry. Looking to Goeman, Nakasone crossed her arms.

"What now?" The Shinobi asked angrily. "Thanks to this… side mission, the Imperial Palace is probably under siege, if not already controlled, by the Blackstone Legion by now!"

"Protecting the Imperial Palace was not my mission." The Orochi said calmly. "Uniting the clans was, and I don't believe that imperialism is the best course of action to do so. I believe that unifying against a common enemy, which would be, in this case, the Blackstone Legion, is the best course of action."

"I don't fucking care about your mission, Goeman!" Nakasone almost yelled. "I only care about the preservation of the Myre and its people!"

"If you truly did, then you'd see that this is the way!" Goeman retorted. He was growing angry at Nakasone. To him, she was close-minded and unable to accept that he believed that he was right. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "I don't care, but if we're going to stand against the Blackstone Legion, we're going to have to stay together, for there's nothing you can do alone."

Goeman was absolutely right, though. If Nakasone ran off to try and fight that Blackstone Legion alone, there'd be no doubt that she'd fail and possibly die. She had to play this smart, and for now, the best option would be to stay with Goeman and Esclair. They needed to form a trust between the trio in order to survive whatever it was the Blackstone Legion was planning to do.

"Blackstone." Nakasone said as she turned to the Warden, who had stood silently whilst the others argued. "You said that you had a contact that could help us?"

"Yes." Esclair said, nodding. "His name is Rera. Geraix Rera. He's the head of the House of Rera, an old and powerful house in Ashfeld that has been in effect for more than half a century. Before entering the Myre, I had a meeting with the man. He offered any and all resources he had should I need them, and it seems that I do."

"Okay." Nakasone said. She was skeptical of this Rera, but she didn't trust any Knights so that wasn't anything new. "Let's go see if he can help with our predicament, shall we?"

* * *

The large waves crashed against the stone fortress's walls violently, the salty waters splashing against the thick stone. The Kaiyo fortress stood tall and strong, causing all that even thought of attacking it into hesitance. It rose high into the sky, reaching above seventy feet. Walls that arose just above half that height surrounded the grey building, providing the first barrier of defense. Large turrets rose high at random intervals along the wall, giving this fortress's archers a good highground. Along the wall facing the west, a large iron gate rested. From what any traveller could see, this was the only entrance.

The muddy ground climbed its way up the Peacekeeper's cloth boots as she walked with the Samurai through the wet Myre. This group had walked for just over two hours before the Kaiyo Fortress was even in sight. Stopping on the edge of a cliff, the group of warriors looked out upon the sprawling walls. Footsteps colliding with the wet ground alerted the young Knight to a presence behind her. Turning her head slightly, she looked behind her to be greeted by the Nobushi that she had been travelling with.

"The Kaiyo Fortress." The Nobushi, who Thorn had earlier found out was called Nise, said to the Knight as she took a place next to the Knight. Her mask was of a deep black like oil. This blackness ended around the eyes, where two holes in the wooden mask for eyes were marked with a thin line of gold. Beyond the eyeholes, two bright blue eyes gazed down at the stone fortress. "Home to the Rushai clan, this fortress has been their base of operations for decades."

"Interesting." Thorn said in response. Nise's voice was seemingly void of happiness. In fact, it seemed rather void of any sort of emotion. Not much was known of the Rushai clan in Ashfeld, Valkenheim, or even the Myre. They had kept a low profile relative to the other clans and houses across the three lands. Perhaps this trip would allow Thorn to learn more of the Rushai clan and their actions. "Is that all you know?"

At this question, Nise turned her head to look at the female Knight. Raising an eyebrow behind her wooden mask, the Nobushi was a little taken off-guard by the question. _Pryful_. She thought. _Or perhaps it's curiosity. Nonetheless, it's inappropriate for her to question those who offer her a place to rest her head._ Saying that Nise was a little offended that Thorn had even thought to ask her this question would have been an understatement. To the Samurai, it made her think that this Blackstone legionnaire did not trust her allies.

"Yes." Nise finally responded, turning her head away from the Peacekeeper. Looking to the rest of the group, the Nobushi received a nod from the Orochi and returned with the same gesture. "Let us go... Knight."

Thorn silently did as she was instructed and followed the Samurai into the depths of the Kaiyu Fortress. She still believed that she was in the presence of friends.

* * *

 _An update regarding The Wishful Few:_

 _I've decided to open back submissions for this story. If you want to submit one, please do. However, they will all be loyal to the Blackstone Legion: There will be no more protagonists. I want to start exploring the Black Legion's side of The Wishful Few, so this is why I am opening submissions._

 _No, I do not plan on cancelling the story, so do not worry. For all the readers of this story, I sincerely apologize for the lack of updates to this story. My only response is: I have had many, many things going on in my life. Too many to update this story effectively. Updates should hopefully pick up soon, but I can't promise._

* * *

 **Blackstone Legion Character Submission Sheet:**

 **BASICS:**

 **Name:**

 **Class: (All classes must be from the Knight faction)**

 **Background:**

 **Personality:**

 **Gender:**

 **Strengths:**

 **Weaknesses:**

 **APPEARANCE:**

 **Armor:**

 **Face:**

 **Hair:**

 **Eyes:**

 **Notable facial features:**

 **Tattoos/Scars:**

 **Height:**

 **Weight:**

 **Skin tone:**

 **FEELINGS:**

 **How do they feel about the Knights not in the Blackstone Legion?:**

 **How do they feel about the Samurai?:**

 **How do they feel about the Vikings?:**

 **MISCELLANEOUS:**

 **Likes:**

 **Dislikes:**

 **Hobbies/Habits:**

 **Equipment:**

 **Extra Information:**

* * *

 _Label the subject of the PM as this: Blackstone Submission: The Wishful Few_


	9. Chapter Eight: We are the Wolves

Worry was all that the Peacekeeper felt in this specific moment. A close friend of hers, a certain Warden, had gone missing a few weeks ago, not being heard from for weeks. She was worried that something may have happened to this Warden, who was commonly known as Esclair. This Peacekeeper, Liliana Marta, and Esclair were good friends. They were both inducted into the Blackstone Legion around the same time, they were both women in a fort of mostly men, and they both had an undying respect for all that Apollyon stood for.

They had met in a small fort that trained would-be knights from across Ashfeld in order for them to join the infamous Blackstone Legion. The small Fort Frivo was located deep in Ashfeld's, or more specifically the Blackstone Legion's, territory. It could house up to twenty men, except that fifteen of those were students. Though the fort was small, Fort Frivo's training program was very intensive, as it was known to have fatally injured at least three attending trainees. And without doubt, Apollyon was happy of that fact, as she saw it as weeding out the weak.

Liliana Marta and Avice Esclair met during this training program. Though they did not initially enjoy each other's presences, they soon grew on each other, for they were the only girls in the fort at the time, they naturally drew towards each other to get away from the louder, more rough, boisterous boys. Though they both didn't learn of each other's backstories until much, much later in their friendship, Esclair and Marta both felt comfortable in the other's presence strangely. After the rigorous training at Fort Frivo, they were both sent in different missions: Esclair received special assignments directly from Apollyon, and Marta was sent off to command small squadrons for scouting or infiltration against the other factions.

Regardless of this, the Peacekeeper and Warden were able to keep in touch through frequent messages being sent between the two. After about six years of faithful warfare for the Blackstone Legion, Esclair was sent to Vector Outpost under the command of Devo Forge, where she would send the last letter she would ever send to her stealthy ally and friend. Marta thought of this absence in the brightest light for as long as she could, thinking that it must've just been an extensive mission that left no time for writing.

Unlike some others that she knew, the Peacekeeper wasn't easy to get to emotionally, instead opting to see it through a more emotionless, logical point of view. Regardless of being less emotionally connected to people, Marta still was worried for a reason. Thoughts raced of the possibly situations that the Warden could be in at this moment. Most of those possibilities made her even more anxious for Esclair's safety.

As Marta paced back and forth inside the small tent that stood with the rest of tents along the Valkenheim-Ashfeld border, she couldn't get her mind off of her best friend. The sound of swords being drawn and the clanging of metal scraping against metal broke the Peacekeeper from her worry though. Looking through the tent's entrance flaps, she saw many knights running towards the outer perimeter of the camp. Donning her helmet and raising her hood, Marta exited her tent to find out what was going on.

Racing out of the tent, Marta looked to where the soldiers were rushing to—the western side of the small clearing that they were in. Looking to that side, horror crept onto her face, for she saw a hated enemy: the Vikings.

* * *

Walking through the elegantly decorated halls of the Kaiyo Fortress, Thorn immediately knew that something was happening within these golden walls. She could swear that she heard faint screams from something. This place seemed perfect with its ornate, gold-engraved walls, thick, clear-as-day glass ceilings, and large, spiraling towers… almost too perfect. _What is this place?_ The Peacekeeper thought as she looked at the extravagant decor. _There's something… off about it. This place, it's different than anywhere else that I've been._

The Samurai's escorted the young Knight through the halls and into the large, open throne hall. A gold- and diamond-plated throne sat on a raised platform of stone, looking over the rest of the large room. In that luxurious throne, a large man sat, consuming a large plate of bread and meat. The man eating the food was unarmored and grotesquely overweight, two things that weren't common in the Myre—especially in such large, expensive fortresses like the Kaiyo Fortress. After finishing the large platter of an assortment of bread and meats, the emperor moved sloppily in his throne to sit somewhat up.

"Who is this that you bring before me, my Hanta?" He said as he peered down at Thorn. Making her shift uncomfortably, the man's gaze was somewhat intrusive and sexual strangely. One of the men, the Orochi—who Thorn found out was called Ryoken by the others—that had taken control of the situation back in the forest where she first met these Samurai, stepped forward and bowed slightly.

"This is Miss Dahlia Thorn of South Ashfeld. We found her wandering the woods when she came in contact with Shoko. We thought that we'd offer her a drink and a place to stay as consolation." The way that Ryoken said that made Thorn hesitant to go along, but she brushed it off.

"Ah, I see. Carry on then!" The man said as he looked Thorn up and down one last time before slouching back into his chair. The Shinobi, Shizuka, rested his arm around Thorn's shoulder length and motioned her forward through a hall. The Kensei and one of the Orochi turned off from the group and entered a silver door across the room. After walking through the hall across from the Kensei, Thorn was told to wait in a large room just before two large doors. In the room, two rows of the traditional Japanese zaisu were arranged along the two opposite walls that were adjacent to the doors.

"Please, make yourself comfortable while I prepare the meal." Ryoken said as he entered the large doors, being followed by Shizuka and Nise—leaving Thorn alone in the empty room. Before sitting down, the Peacekeeper walked around the room, taking in the extravagant and exorbitant decor. Large tapestries—of what Thorn presumed to be former rulers of the Kaiyo Fortress or Rushai Clan—hung on the walls, pieces of pottery stood on gold-engraved tables, and sprawling stained glass windows, which allowed some colored light in, showed the sheer wealth of Rushai Clan. The question was: how did they get this wealth?

As Thorn walked by a certain walls underneath the tapestry of an older man, who looked somewhat like the other man in the throne except less heavy, she heard something from beyond the stone barrier. The sounds of screams from a person—presumably female—and the clanging of chains emanated from the wall. Pressing her ear against the cold surface, Thorn could hear the screams of multiple people, not one. She jumped back from the wall as the large doors were opened suddenly, revealing Nise motioning for the Peacekeeper to enter.

"The meal is ready, young Knight." Nise said, her emotionless mask still concealing her face. As the Nobushi motioned for her to enter the room, Thorn did as she was told, still trying to be hospitable regardless of whether or not she was uncomfortable. Entering the grand hall of the Kaiyo Fortress, different aromas filled the air, each one making Thorn hungrier and hungrier. Sitting down in one of the various zaisu that were arranged periodically along a long wooden table.

After Thorn took her seat, about four female servants came from a door that, presumably, led to the kitchen or servant's quarters. They brought a variety of vegetables, fruits, meats, alcohol, tea, and other drinks. Anything would have satisfied the Peacekeeper at that moment, as she hadn't eaten in almost a week or so since she was sent off from the main group. As one of the maids reached over to place a plate in front of Thorn, the Knight took notice of a large bruise along her arm. _What happened?_ She thought. _It looks as though someone forcefully took her by her arms. What is this place?_

"Let's have a toast to our newest ally." Ryoken said with a smile as he raised a glass of fresh wine. Motioning for Thorn to raise her drink, the Orochi looked upon her expectantly. It would've been problematic had the Knight not taken the drink that was offered to her, as the Samurai were known for their important traditions. Because of the fact that she didn't want to offend them, Thorn took the drink and rose it in the air. As the other Samurai took drinks from their wine, she followed in suit, taking a small sip.

It was too late before she noticed the maid shaking her head with worry on her face. Thorn's eyes widen as she felt something was wrong. Trying to stand up, she stumbled onto the floor, knocking off a lot of dishes with her. Coughing, the Peacekeeper tried to regurgitate the drink, but it was too late. After a few minutes of a sharp pain, everything went completely black.

* * *

The blade pierced the man's heart as he clung to his last breath. His eyes widened and his mouth agape, the man's lifeless body slumped down, slowly sliding off the blade of the sword. Pushing the corpse off of her sword with her boot, Apollyon turned to her crowd. Motioning to the lifeless body, she smiled beneath the menacing helmet.

"Wolves." Apollyon said to the Blackstone Legion that gathered around a large marble podium in the courtyard of the Blackstone Fortress. "It's natural for there to be competition from within the wolfpack. The many wolves fight to be the alpha. It's completely natural. Who's to say that we're different? Why should we fight the natural process of weeding out the weak? I know that there are wolves among the human race. We are those wolves. With predators, however, there must be prey. The prey of sheep. The sheep are those who refuse change. Who refuse war. Who refuse us.

"We must be able to change. In order to do that, we must remove the sheep from our armies, from our homes, from our lives. We must do this for the good of all humanity. I fear that, if we refuse change any sooner, we will lose our rights for living. Ultimately, the universe decides whether we change. If we don't do so voluntarily, it will force us to do so, and I fear that the time has come that we are under that hand. It is now time to stop refusing this change. We must fight for our lives. Today, we fight for change! Today, we fight for life! Today, we fight for the Blackstone Legion!"

As Apollyon finished her speech and stepped from the podium, the Blackstone Legion cheered their great warlord. Approaching Apollyon as he clapped, Ademar congratulated the warlord for her rousing speech. Ademar walked with his superior through the halls of the Blackstone Fortress and into a large empty room, save for a large table in the center. On the table, a large map rested, sprawled out across the flat surface. As the two approached the table, Ademar pointed to a point on the map.

"Now that we have taken Imperial City, it's time to start taking the other major cities and fortresses in the Myre, such as Kaiyo Kabe, Tsuyoi Kabe, or Kage Kabe. These are the three major defenses from us and the Vikings. Tsuyoi Kabe is along the Ashfeld-Myre-Valkenheim border, the Kage Kabe is along the Ashfeld-Myre border, and the Kaiyo Kabe is along the Myre-Valkenheim border." Ademar said, informing his warlord about the three different major "walls" that the Samurai used as defense against the other factions. "However, the choice is up to you."

"It would be the most beneficial to break down the entire barrier between Ashfeld and the Myre. If we attack and conquer the Kage Kabe, we will open all routes into and out of the Myre, allowing us easier and safer travel between our lands. If we can do this, then that will allow us to bring in reinforcements to assist Cross against the Tsuyoi Kabe." Apollyon said, deciding that conquering the Kage Kabe would be the most beneficial to the Blackstone Legion at this moment. "It's done. We shall commence an attack against the Kage Kabe as soon as possible."

"Yes, my liege." Ademar said, straightening his back and standing at attention. "I will inform Cross of reinforcements immediately."

"Good." Apollyon said, smirking from within her helmet once again.

* * *

 **The first Blackstone Submission introduced is Liliana Marta, who is a worrying Peacekeeper, from MissGoldHeart.**


	10. Chapter Nine: Shattered Morale

**FOREWARNING:**

 **VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS ARE BROUGHT UP IN THIS CHAPTER!**

 **READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

* * *

The trio consisting of an Orochi, a Shinobi, and a Warden was perhaps the strangest thing that could've been seen in the Myre. It was an unlikely alliance: a Blackstone Legionnaire, a former Renjiro clan member, and a roaming Samurai. The three sought out a cause that could be considered honorable, but many saw it as a pointless effort. And even though this alliance was rocky to begin with, they kept at their goal, trying to make it come to fruition.

Looking through the thick swamp that was the Myre, Esclair sighed. They had about half a hundred miles before they would even be able to see Ashfeld. They had travelled for about three and a half hours from the ruined Imperial Mountain Pass. Esclair only hoped that Rera would be willing to help them. Otherwise, this journey would've been useless. A long way from home, the Warden was happy that she would finally be able to return to her homeland of Ashfeld.

Nakasone, on the other hand, still didn't trust the Warden that was leading them straight into the heart of the enemy. She wasn't one to trust others easily. It took lots of convincing to be not her enemy, much less her ally. Peering at Esclair, the Shinobi clenched her fists. _I can't fucking believe that we're following a Blackstone._ She thought. _I'd never trust one of those dogs if the situation wasn't so dire._

"Do you know how much longer it is until we reach your contact?" The Shinobi said to the Blackstone Legionnaire. Crossing her arms, she stopped walking and waited for an answer.

"It should be by the next day if we keep moving." Esclair said, rolling her eyes at the Shinobi. The relationship between the Warden and the Shinobi weren't on the greatest of terms. Ever since they met, the two never had the best bond. "So let's go, Hanako."

"Is there a problem here, Blackstone?" Nakasone responded with an annoyed voice. She could sense the challenge in Esclair's voice. _How dare she speak to me as such?_ Nakasone thought. _She's lucky enough that I haven't killed her yet!_

"No problem here unless you want to make one." Esclair said, challenging the Shinobi. Stopping in her tracks and turning to the Samurai, she could tell that there wasn't any synergy between the two. Resting her hand on the longsword that hung loosely from her belt inside its scabbard, Esclair was ready to get on the defensive or offensive.

"You should watch your tongue, dog." Nakasone barked, clenching her fists. She was ready to attack this disrespectful, arrogant Knight on the spot. Taking a step forward, she silently challenged the Warden to a duel.

"Don't worry, Samurai, I won't waste my time on your below par skills." Esclair taunted. The Warden knew how much honor, pride, and respect was valued within the Samurai culture. Because of this, she knew that spitting on that tradition was the best way to antagonize them. Noticing that Nakasone was becoming more angered, she smirked.

"Your arrogance will bite you in the future." The Shinobi said, wrapping her hands around the two kusarigama that swung freely from her belt. Sensing the obvious hatred in the air, Goeman took a step forward and extended his hands.

"Let us calm down." The Orochi said, preventing the impending duel from happening. Goeman wouldn't want a duel between the two for obvious reasons. Firstly, a fight between them would permanently put the mission on rocky grounds, as the loser of the duel would hold a strong resentment towards the winner. Secondly, a fight between Nakasone and Esclair would most likely result in an injury that would cause them to be set back at least a few days.

"I agree, Blackstone dog." Nakasone said aggressively before walking passed Esclair, heading straight forward towards Ashfeld. Watching the Samurai as she walked off, Esclair huffed before looking to a shrugging Goeman. Continuing forward, the three of them could tell that this was going to be a long trek.

* * *

The Kage Kabe rested on the Ashfeld-Myre border. Built along the ridge of the Kage Keikoku—or "Shadow Ravine"—this fortress sought to be the first defense against the Knights if they chose to attack. For decades, this was the case, as it repelled many, many warlords. After a long lifespan, however, the Kage Kabe was decommissioned by the emperor when the Imperial City, along with any and all of its properties, went into a deep debt. After the Samurai's Imperial family clawed their way out of debt, the Kage Kabe returned to service, but it never returned to its position of power like it had before.

The sprawling fortress's walls went down as far as the eye could see along the Myre-Ashfeld border. It ran along the Kage Keikoku, which acted as a natural moat. The ominous stone walls seemingly reached into the heavens. Among the hundreds of warlords that attempted to attack this fortress, none have been able to pass. This didn't repel the Blackstone Legion though, as the massive force stood outside the stone walls on the other side of the Kage Keikoku.

A large stone bridge crossed the massive gap, which normally allowed entrance to the Myre to those that gained allowance. Originally purposed as the easiest way into and through the Myre, the Kage Kabe was opened for all men and women without intent to attack the Samurai. Those who did have that intent were steered away by the robust defense systems. At this moment in time, however, no one was allowed through. In response to the oncoming raid on the Imperial city, the emperor's last orders to the Kage Kabe were to allow no one passage. However, the Blackstone Legion found a way around this first line of defense, and they were able to infiltrate the Myre and kill the emperor.

"Should we prepare the battering ram, my liege?" One of her men, a Conqueror, asked Apollyon. In his mind, they would roll the behemoth of a machine across the old stone bridge and destroy the wall's portcullis.

"Sure. Let's raise the white flag while we're at it." Apollyon said sarcastically, shaking her head. "Do you think that an eighty ton battering ram would be able to cross an old bridge that hasn't been repaired in decades? No, it won't. The bridge will collapse, sending our machine to the bottom of the ravine."

"Then what shall we do?" The Conqueror asked, sweat furrowing at his brow beneath bronze helmet. It was very, very common for anyone who talked to Apollyon to be nervous. If you said the wrong thing to her, chances are that you'd have lost your life.

"There were dungeons that ran throughout the cliff of the Kage Keikoku that kept a variety of prisoners and criminals. One year, these prisoners devised a plan that they'd start tunneling their way out of the prison and into the ravine with their hands. After years of digging, these prisoners were able to escape." Apollyon said, motioning towards a small hole inside the side of the cliff. "When the Kage Kabe was decommissioned, the repair of these tunnels were halted, leaving only a rudimentary wooden blockade. That is how we are going to get inside."

* * *

The sound of rain slamming itself against the stone walls of the Kaiyo fortress woke the Peacekeeper. She was cold. She felt disgusting. Holding her upper arms in a hug-like way, she shivered. Slowly opening her eyes, Thorn breathed in and out heavily. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Shivers ran up and down her spine as she slowly turned her head to look around the damp room. As she moved her body, sharp pains resonated up and down her body. It was hell to move.

Thorn slowly and painfully pushed herself into the corner and against the wall. Wincing from the pain as she sat up and breathed heavily, she looked around the room. The walls were stone and had moss growing out of them. Thick iron bars stood on the wall across from Thorn. She noticed the notable absence of a door though. A trapdoor hung from the ceiling around the center of it. A flat wooden cell bed hung from chains on the wall adjacent to the corner where the Peacekeeper hid.

Thorn didn't remember anything that happened the previous night. She didn't need to remember, as she could feel what happened. She didn't even need to look down to know that her garb had been torn and ripped. She was violated. That much was evident to all who looked upon her. Such a scarring event brought tears to Thorn's eyes, but she couldn't cry. She was shocked, not sad. She was scared, not solemn. She was broken, not angry.

Footsteps echoed through the halls of this damned place. Assuming that her violator—or violators—was approaching, Thorn tried to cover herself, but to no avail. The pain quickly overwhelmed her as she tried to move to veil her body. Giving up on it, she just slumped back against the wall. As the footsteps grew nearer and nearer, Thorn was on the verge of accepting the cruel fate that was bestowed upon her.

"Looks like our little pet woke up." The voice of Ryoken snapped the Peacekeeper from her self-induced trance of hurt. His voice was familiar yet strange. Something about it changed. It was as if he had stopped lying. His voice was more raspy and gruff than it was before when she met him in the Myre. "How was your nap?"

Thorn couldn't say anything. She was betrayed by one that she trusted. Perhaps that was the part that destroyed her morale the most. The Peacekeeper turned her head to look at the Orochi, her eyes teary. _How._ She thought. _How could someone be so cruel as to do this? It's unimaginable. Why? Just why?_ And that was her question to the Orochi when she finally opened her lips and whispered the one word: "Why?"

"Because, Knight, we must earn money somehow. Do you think that we just stumbled upon this wealth? No, we made it ourselves." Ryoken said after a brief chuckle. His entire character had changed so much. Gone was the fake welcoming face, and here was the true wolf beneath the sheep's skin. "We know that a Blackstone like yourself will sell for a lot. And they never have to worry for the quality, as we always test the product."

Turning her head away from the Orochi, Thorn was horrified. The tears that clung to her eyes now streamed down her cheeks. Crying, she was appalled at the face of war. Thorn had grew up in a rich, sheltered home. She was spoiled as some would say. Since her earliest years, everything was simple and easy going, so the true horrors of war brought much distraught and stress down upon the Peacekeeper.

Hearing one last chuckle from the Orochi, echoey footsteps seemed to carry on down the hall, leaving the Peacekeeper alone in tears in the cell. After a few minutes of shedding tears, Thorn sniffled and forced herself through the pain to stand up. Walking to the bars, she wrapped her hands around the cold metal rods. Looking down the corridor, the lights grew dimmer and dimmer, soon becoming a full darkness. Sighing, Thorn looked across the hallway to the cell across from her. The darkened cell concealed that what it contained. Concentrating on the darkness, her eyes adjusted.

Jumping back and turning her head away from the cell across from hers, Thorn squealed. In that cell, a body hung lifeless from a makeshift noose. She couldn't bare to look upon the lifeless form of the woman. The horrors of the Kaiyo Fortress must've brought the woman to do such a horrible act. What heinous acts brought this women to do this? Thorn felt like she already knew and experienced some of it. In response to what had happened, the Peacekeeper couldn't do anything else but curl up in the corner and shed painful tears for herself and the suicide victim.

* * *

 **A/N: I just wanted to clarify that I do** **not** **want to glorify the heinous acts that were mentioned in this chapter. If anyone has experienced any sort of sexual harassment and/or assault, please talk to someone that you trust. And if anyone feels like suicide is the answer for whatever situation you're in, please do not take that path. Again, please talk to someone that you trust. I am also open to talk to you if you should need it. I beg of you, please do not commit suicide; it's never the answer.**

 **National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255**

 **National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673**


	11. Chapter Ten: Stolt Bera Sverð

The wet tunnels that directed into the Kage Kabe were dimly lit and narrow, not allowing even two people to crawl side by side within them. Mercy and another Blackstone crawled these tunnels silently. They were tasked with bringing the Kage Kabe down from the inside so that Apollyon and the rest of her Blackstone Legion could enter the Myre and regroup with Holden Cross at the Imperial Palace. Their part in this mission was incredibly important, and it was imperative that they didn't fuck it up.

The wet, dimly lit passageway was barely wide enough for Mercy—even with her slender frame—to go through. The sounds of creaking wood and rustling rock emanated from the unfinished tunnel around them. Thin wooden planks struggled to support the heavy weight of the dirt and stone that composed the "ceiling" of the cavernous tunnel. Visible cracks moved their way towards the center of almost every support that Mercy looked at. This passageway could collapse at almost any second, so Mercy and the Blackstone knew that they had to get out as soon as possible.

Crawling on their stomachs as they carefully navigated through the opening, Mercy and the Blackstone made damn sure that they made the least amount of movement and noise as possible. The supports rocked back and forth with every motion that the two made, causing tiny pieces of dirt and rock to fall on them. Breathing and out, Mercy tried to steady her heart, as she wanted to travel this passage as smoothly, quickly, and safely as possible. The light that emanated from the entrance to the tunnel seemed to dissipate rather quickly as they traveled further and further into the dirty passageway.

Mercy's feeling of getting closer to the end was finally gratified when she reached three wooden boards. They were loosely leaning against the entrance to the passage, probably serving as a crude, rushed attempt as a fix to the hole. Moving the boards to beside the entrance, Mercy finally climbed out of the tunnel and stretched her back after checking to see if there were any guards patrolling the ruins of what used to be of the Kage Kabe's dungeons. Determining that there wouldn't be any Samurai down there, Mercy walked into the center of the cell that the tunnel led into. The metal bars that made up the majority of the cells down here seemed rusted from possible leaks and wear over the centuries. Water droplets fell from the various cracks and holes in the ceiling, giving a constant white noise.

Mercy's footsteps echoed throughout the prison as she took a few steps into the room. Still weary that there could be Samurai, she walked cautiously throughout the dark prisons. When she determined that the coast was clear, she stood up straight and looked to the Blackstone who followed in her footsteps. After her accomplice quietly managed their way into the prison, Mercy started to walk around the open but small room, taking in the atmosphere that was emanating from the walls.

The prison was derelict and filled with the echoing sounds of rodents and insects that seemed to take over the rooms. Mossy and cracked stone built up the walls as long vines hung down from cracks in the ceiling. Scurrying through the dungeons and to an entrance door built from thick iron bars, the two Blackstone legionnaires quickly pulled it from its hinges, trying to make the least amount of sound possible. Lifting it slightly up from the dirty ground, they moved it to the wall beside the entrance, leaning the heavy iron door against the wall.

Walking through the broken exit, Mercy entered a narrow room with its only defining feature being a set of stairs that steeply rose on the side opposite the wall. Cautiously approaching the ominous-looking stairway, the Peacekeeper slowly walked up the seemingly endless staircase as it curved and turned around in a snake-like way. As the narrow passageway slowly ascended, the darkness seemed to give way to light. Torches—burning faintly with their limited oil—laced the wall along occasional points. As Mercy walked farther and farther up the stairway, things started becoming even brighter. The torches were now filled with enough oil that they seemed to be able to burn for long periods at a time, and the Peacekeeper was now positive that she was nearing the top of the prisons.

Hearing the pitter patter of the downfall beyond the thick walls and mountains of the Kage Kabe's secluded dungeons, Mercy determined that they were nearing the top. This suspicion manifested in the form of a wooden trapdoor that she had reached. The small, square door was locked shut on the Blackstone's side with a metal hook the went through a small metal circle that was attached to the wooden underside. Undoing this hook and carefully pushing up the door, Mercy peeked through a small slit that she made by lifting the door.

It was a small room lit with a few torches. Four large stone walls made up the room. From the position that she was in, Mercy determined the trapdoor was opposite the door, but it was positioned slightly to the right so that it wasn't directly below a ladder that went through to the second floor. Determining that no one had entered the room, the Peacekeeper carefully and quietly exited the dungeon's entrance. Looking around the room, it was fairly empty, save for a single wooden table on the far wall with a book, quill, and lantern. Opposite the door, a ladder dropped down as a way to get to the second floor. Walking to the door, Mercy peeked through small slits that were put in around eye-level in the door.

Outside of the tower in the courtyard, rows of Samurai marched around the perimeter of the aforementioned yard. Archers stood atop the walls, looking down from the flattened surface of their defensive structures at the Blackstone Legion that waited for the Peacekeeper. Near the main gate and its portcullis, two medium-sized towers stood, acting as the gatekeeper's quarters. Across from where Mercy was peeking through, another tower stood; however, this one was significantly larger. From the outside, it seemed as though it contained about four or five floors. Removing herself from the door, the Peacekeeper made her way to and up the ladder, being followed closely by the nameless Blackstone.

Passing through the second floor and not bothering to investigate the fairly empty room, Mercy reached the top of the tower, where the outer wall connected to the flatly topped tower. Hiding behind one of the many stone merlons that dotted the wall, she looked down the walkway. A small group of maybe two or three soldiers walked down the wall's path away from the Blackstones. Slowly and quietly, Mercy made her way towards these men, closely but carefully following them. Grabbing her dagger that hung loosely from her belt, she looked to the other Blackstone—who was doing the same—and motioned with her head. In almost perfect unison, the two Blackstone legionnaires grabbed and slit the throats of the two Samurai that were walking along the wall.

Unnoticed by the rest of the Kage Kabe's inhabitants, Mercy and the Blackstone dragged the two bodies from the middle of the walkway, leaning them against the outer merlons. As they approached the walkway that went over the gate's portcullis, the two infiltrators made their way into the gatekeeper's tower, luckily not attracting any attention from the various Samurai. As they entered the tower, they were greeted with a large mechanism that opened the gate. Closing the heavy wooden door behind him, the Blackstone that accompanied Mercy latched it shut, making sure that the Samurai couldn't get in easily.

Mercy rushed to the mechanism and begin pushing and pulling the handle, slowly but surely opening the portcullis. The Samurai—now alerted to the Blackstones' presences—rushed to the gatekeeper's tower, but they were unable to push their way in. Banging on the wooden door, the Samurai eventually started cracking the door. As the door burst in from the sheer force that it had been taking, the Samurai rushed in, swords drawn. The Blackstone retrieved his sword and defended Mercy as she turned the crank.

* * *

"Ah, it is good to see you, my dear!" Stolt Bera Sverð exclaimed as he clambered in the small wooden cottage in the snowy highlands of Valkenheim. With a large grin, Sverð hugged and kissed his wife before looking to the little children that ran to him with even larger grins than his. Chuckling, the bearded man took the children and laughed loudly.

"It has been a long time, Stolt." The wife said, ushering the children away from their father so that she could speak to him. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Ah, you know." The Highlander said as he patted the snow from his shoulders. "Food is not so close to our home, but I must feed you, mustn't I?"

"I suppose." She responded, sighing. Turning back to the table where the children sat, she walked over and took her place in the seat next to the head. Following pursuit, Sverð took his place at the head and grabbed his utensils.

"Let us eat!" He exclaimed before biting into the prepared venison that sat upon his wooden plate. Leaning back in his chair, the man looked around the room as he chewed. It was a small wooden cottage that consisted of mainly three rooms: the main room, the sleeping quarters, and the garderobe. Large animal skulls and skins hung on the walls, and small windows allowed an easy way to look to the snowy biome that surrounded them.

As the Highlander ate his food, large banging emanated from the door to the shack. Immediately alarmed by the noise, Sverð stood and grabbed his claymore, assuming a defensive stance. With a deep voice, the bearded man spoke to the disturbance: "Who goes there?"

"I am a messenger for Jarl Dómaldr!" The intruder responded. _What could that damn Raider want now?_ The bearded man thought. Jarl Dómaldr was a thorn in Sverð's side for as long as he could remember. Long ago, Sverð and Dómaldr fought together side-by-side. The Raider and Highlander—Dómaldr and Sverð respectively—became great friends through these battles. After a certain battle, however, the land had to be divided. With Dómaldr receiving the land, he allowed Sverð to live in the territory with protection and without any tax on conditions.

Because of a treaty that had been drawn up by the new Jarl, Sverð was required to fight for Dómaldr if required or requested. If a rival Viking clan, for instance, attacked Dómaldr's lands, then the Highlander would be subject to his request to defend it or not. Not one to not follow duty, Sverð loyally did what was needed of him by Dómaldr.

"Damn." Sverð said under his breath as he opened the wooden door and leaned against his heavy claymore. On the other side of the door, a stout man stood. He was significantly shorter than Sverð and only barely taller than his wife. To the Highlander, a sorry excuse for a beard hung on the man's face. "What is it that the fool wants this time around?"

"A mischievous group of Knights has attacked a small village in the outskirts of Dómaldr's land. He requests your presence to find out who ordered the attack, and he wants you to bring them to him—alive." The messenger informed.

"Of course!" Sverð exclaimed. "If it weren't for this treaty, I wouldn't concern myself with these petty Viking squabbles, yet I am forced to by an old friend. Oh, if it weren't for this simple fact, I could stay here, my beautiful wife, but I am forced to leave once again."

Turning to his wife, Sverð frowned. He'd already been gone hunting for a few days, leaving his wife to take care of his young children. It's not that he didn't trust her; rather, the Highlander just wanted to be here to support them.

"Oh, Sverð." His wife said solemnly. "I wish that you didn't have to go again, but I know that your honor won't allow you to stay."

"It is not only honor!" Sverð refuted. "It is also for you! If I do not leave to help Jarl Dómaldr, then he is highly likely to take you away from me, and that is something that I don't want to happen. So with a mighty sigh, I must leave. Don't worry, my dearest children, I will come back."

With that, the mighty man exited the cottage with the messenger, slamming the door behind them. Like many other days in Valkenheim, the cold seemed to envelop the air. The wintery grounds left deep footprints in them as the two walked towards the larger cities in Dómaldr's territory where he would be. Making their way to the small stables that sat across from the cottage, they both knew that it would be a long trek, for Sverð lived in the highest reaches of Valkenheim.

"Give me more details on these Knights." Sverð demanded as he untied his horse from the wooden pole, receiving a snort from the beautiful brown animal. "I want to know what I'm doing before I get there."

"Clad in dark armor, Knights attacked the settlements along the Ashfeld-Valkenheim border." The messenger said whilst climbing atop his own horse. "Oddly enough, they didn't pillage or steal everything; instead, they burned large portions of food from the village, saving small piles. Piles enough for maybe one or two weeks."

"Knights burned the food?" Sverð asked. It was certainly a strange thing, as that was the reason for most raids or attacks on villages and cities: food. So for the offenders to burn the food was one of the oddest things that would happen. To his knowledge, Sverð didn't know of any enemies in the Ashfeld region that Dómaldr could have created for this to be an attack on the Jarl. Regardless of the cause, it happened, and now Sverð had to find out who had done this.

With one final sigh and look towards the small cottage, the Highlander rode off with the messenger into the inner depths of the snowy, mountainous regions of Valkenheim. Sverð hated and regretted that he had gotten involved in the petty squabbles that the Vikings had. He wished that he hadn't signed Jarl Dómaldr's treaty. Although he wished these things, he signed the treaty, and he would not let his pride fail him.

* * *

Rera looked upon his castle with worry. The Blackstone Legion would march upon this place soon, seizing it from the Centurion's hands. Rera may have been prideful, but he was certainly not an idiot to challenge Apollyon—especially when she outnumbered him a hundred to one. He sighed as he sat inside the grand hall on his golden throne, a mix of anger and despair on his face.

The House of Rera served as Ashfeld's most profitable house of trade. It grossed significant amounts of wealth that Rera pocketed. Although the Centurion would be well off because of his investments and the amount of money that he had stored, his pride and everything that he worked hard to build would crumble beneath him. He hated having something so precious to him be taken away from him, and he couldn't stand the thought of the Blackstone Legion taking it.

As he sat upon his throne, Rera knew that he had to do something to salvage what he could from the situation. Clenching his fists, he had to get back at Apollyon somehow. He knew, however, that chances of success were drastically going down as he sat here. Standing, the Centurion thought of the past few weeks, and then it hit him: It was that damned Warden! _That fucking Warden got me in this mess._ He thought angrily. _If I hadn't accepted her offer, then I wouldn't be in such a situation. Now, it's too late to do anything about it._

Grabbing his helm that sat on the arm of the throne, Rera walked out through the large wooden doors and into the courtyard. To him, that Warden needed to kneel under me and make things right for him. Of course, it was partially his fault too, but in this rush of anger and pride to the head, there was no way that the Centurion was going to admit anything. However, there was obviously nothing that could have been done at this moment.

Inside the warm sunlight, Rera walked slowly around the beautiful courtyard, devising a plan. Large oaks stood strong in the center of the grounds as flowers and grasses filled the edges. A stone path was laid out around the perimeter allowing an easy way to walk to your destination. Passing a small pond with fishes, Rera sighed and let his imagination run wild with what he wanted to do.

First, Rera had to do something about Apollyon's Blackstone Legion, but he couldn't do anything about it now. He had to get allies. He had some contacts from beyond the borders, but he wasn't sure of their trustworthiness. They weren't Knights after all. However, desperate times called for desperate measures, and these were certainly very desperate times.

Next, he had to salvage what he could from this forceful takeover by the Blackstone Legion. Rera knew that most of his subjects were loyal to the hand that paid them, and now that would be the Blackstone Legion. Although he knew that he would be forced to call upon his contacts, he would need a few close supporters to protect him, for the Centurion knew that he would be the main target for the enemy.

Finally, Rera needed a base of operations. Currently, the House of Rera's citadel headquarters would not be suitable, as it would soon be occupied by the Blackstone Legion. He needed somewhere from where he could send orders and instructions to his armies and allies. It needed to be well protected and well hidden, as he did not want to be found by the Blackstone Legion. This wouldn't be so difficult if it wasn't for the fact that the Blackstone Legion occupied almost every major territorial advantage.

Rera sighed once again, knowing that it would be long before he would finally be able to get back at the Blackstone Legion.

* * *

 **So here are the Vikings of Valkenheim! Stolt Bera Sverð was submitted by GuyWhoReads3003.**

 **Also, sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Things have been quite... painful these past few weeks, but enough about me.**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Courageous Cowards

It had been a long while since Devo Forge had seen his old 'friend' Avice Esclair. To say that the Blackstone Centurion and commander of Vector Outpost—which had been situated in a strategic place along the Ashfeld-Myre-Valkenheim border—was concerned might have possibly been an understatement. Although he was annoyed and often angry with the Warden, he was still concerned for her, as she was under his command. Esclair was supposed to have reported back to the outpost, but she hadn't been heard from for months.

This scared the Centurion, for he assumed that she may have deserted the Blackstone Legion. He'd heard the legends of those that deserted the legion—particularly the one of Hervis Daubeny—and he knew that none of them ended with a supposed 'happy ending' like many of the fairy tales that were told to the young children of the surrounding lands. Like many others who deserted the Blackstone Legion, Hervis Daubeny—former Blackstone legionnaire and Warden—ran to the city of Westhold, where he soon became a lord.

Although many would call Daubeny a coward—and perhaps it was right to call him such a thing—Forge never saw him as such. He saw the Warden as one of the more courageous ones in the Blackstone Legion, for he did something not many others were willing to do: run. Running from the Blackstone Legion, as Daubeny surely knew, would result in his head on a platter, but he still did it regardless of the consequences. Running to the city of Westhold, Daubeny knew that he couldn't escape the Blackstone Legion's grasp forever, so he stayed in Westold, waiting for the Blackstone dogs to arrive.

When they did, however, Daubeny didn't stay within the keep, refusing to fight with those surrounding him. He valiantly—though perhaps arrogantly—fought side-by-side with the Knights against the Blackstone Legion's forces. Although he fought with strength and valor, he was destined to fall. Ademar, Holden Cross's second that was chosen to fight for him, fought against Daubeny's second—an unknown Warden that had come from the West, being hired by Daubeny to protect him. And although the battle lasted for what seemed like an eternity, Ademar soon disposed of the mercenary, killing them without mercy whilst also showing the power and strength of the Blackstone Legion.

Knowing that his end would soon follow, Daubeny gave himself to Cross, for there was no reason to run now. The death was quick and relatively painless, especially when compared to the Warden's death that he had witnessed not too long ago. Daubeny's head fell to the floor as Cross pulled his poleaxe from the tree stump. To the Blackstone Legion, it could be said that justice had been served.

Regardless of Daubeny's lifestyle and whether he should have been considered a coward or a hero, his entire story reminded him of the young Warden that seemed faithful to the Blackstone Legion's cause. Being initiated from very young, Esclair possibly had the most potential that Forge had seen in a long time. Being there from almost the beginning of the Blackstone Legion, Forge's view towards his legion was unskewed, as he recognized the pros and cons of Apollyon and her legion. Because of his unskewed opinions, he always saw Esclair as a young but naïve one, as she commonly followed orders without questions.

And regardless of Esclair's naïvety, Forge saw her honor and loyalty to the Blackstone Legion as a good thing in some respect. Although the negative was often mixed in with the positive in these scenarios, Esclair was willing to go to the end of the earth to complete what was needed to be done. This undying loyalty for the Blackstone Legion was only seen in very few men and women that had given their lives for Apollyon, and Forge definitely had a deep respect for Esclair, even though most of the time it was unseen by her.

Although he had much good to say of Esclair, the Centurion also had many unfortunate things to say of her. One of these things—which was her arrogance when it came to her fighting style—annoyed him greatly. He had seen many friends and allies die to the hand of arrogance. Perhaps the most dangerous weapon that one has against them, a person's egotistical view of the world—the kind of view that stated that everything must go their way—killed many more than it should have, and Forge didn't want the young Warden to be another mark on the tally.

Contradictory to many's opinions that it was a fault, Forge believed that Esclair's stubbornness was a benefactor against the two factions that they fought against. Much like her blind loyalty for the Blackstone Legion, her stubbornness forced her to stay on the side of whatever she thought was honorable, though a lot of the time it wasn't very honorable. The Warden's stubbornness allowed her already strong sense loyalty to the Blackstone Legion to grow immensely stronger within her.

Regardless of Esclair's stubbornness and arrogance, Forge could only hope that she wasn't dead, and he also hoped that she hadn't deserted the Blackstone Legion, for that would surely result in the former.

* * *

Gladiators fought without faith nor determination in those that hired them, for they cared not why they were exempt from mostly life or death sentences that kept them behind the damned iron rods. They fought for freedom from the hellish bars that kept them restrained. They had been struck a deal: Fight for the largest gladiatorial arenas and legions, and be exempt from their sentences if they choose to stay with their respective masters. As you may have guessed, Gladiators were prisoners chosen specifically to be hunchmen for these powerful leaders. They were given the name "Gladiator" because these former prisoners were normally taken by some of the most well-known gladiatorial arena rulers to fight for blood against each other.

Though some of these ex convicts fought for blood willingly, others were forced to fight—usually by the forceful hand of pain and torture. These slavemasters grew fond of the sight of thousands of spectators filing in these arenas to see the ex convicts kill each other. Thus, they were angered at the thought of losing these men, for they did not want to lose the money that came with these civilians. To keep this constant flow of money, these masters built contracts based around the amount of expected income. This meant that these Gladiators would be forced to fight for decades if they were lucky enough to not die within the sandy pit. Regardless, many saw this as a good thing, not taking into consideration of the Gladiators' well beings, although who would? They were just criminals given the chance at freedom after all.

The Blackstone Legion, however, saw use for these Gladiators. Apollyon saw them as wolves, for many of them were murderers looking for a chance at doing a deed like that again. She saw them as great opportunities for enlarging the already enormous army of the Blackstone Legion. She put many of these Gladiators at the forefront of the fight, allowing them to slaughter hundreds of soldiers at a time with practically their bare hands. Although many would think that they would be dissatisfied with this life, the Gladiators saw it as a chance to gain quick 'freedom,' for there were no contracts to be signed. But as many people knew, joining the Blackstone Legion was its own kind of contract, for you could never leave once you joined.

The Gladiators of the Blackstone Legion in this certain instance marched forth for Apollyon, not flinching at the familiar sign of death that they had been seeing since their first steps from the prisons of Ashfeld. Although the Blackstone Legion could do just as well without these convicts, Gladiators helped build and maintain a presence on the battlefield, and this is without mentioning that these Gladiators were murderers, meaning that they had much experience compared to the fresh-out-of-the-training-grounds soldiers that surrounded them. Nonetheless, Gladiators provided a strong outer layer for Apollyon strong army, and they were a force to behold indeed.

* * *

Eyes looked across the horizon with a certain kind of hopelessness. These eyes—which happened to be a wondrous light brown, and the emotions that were within them being easily read—were stuck within these walls that contained no sign of light or view to the outside, save for a single barred window that looked out over the crashing ocean waves. Looking at the deep blue liquid, the young Dahlia Thorn sighed. She knew that she was in the depths of the Myre, and it was unlikely that she would be rescued.

Thorn watched as the day changed to night before her. Her mind was racing around, trying to figure out what and why this had to happen to her. She was broken, and that much was certainly evident. Being sheltered for her entire life, she had never experienced the true horridity of war, and now she had. Although Thorn had been trained from the very best Peacekeepers throughout Ashfeld, she had never expected such terror to be struck upon others. And like many others, she couldn't say that she wished she hadn't experienced such heinous actions.

Perhaps this could have been an enlightening moment for Thorn if it hadn't been for the brokenness, though who could blame her? She had just been through perhaps the worst thing that could happen. This was further solidified when the sound of footsteps came closer and closer towards her. The sound made Thorn scurry into the corner, watching vigilant as the figure—the same Nobushi, who she remembered had been called Nise, that had led her here—looked down upon Thorn as if she was a caged animal.

"Such a shame something so horrid had to happen to such a beautiful creature," She said, looking at Thorn. The emotionless Nobushi seemed to be replaced by a sarcastic, sadistic woman, but perhaps that was just Thorn's imagination speaking. "Regardless, it's time for you to be transported to our other facility, so don't worry, you'll be getting plenty of time to think."

 _Another facility? I wonder if it could be worse than this, but it's highly unlikely, for this… this is the true place of evil._ Thorn thought. Though she tried to be brave, she was terrified that this new place would strike more horror upon her.

"Dahlia," Nise's voice saying her name removed Thorn from her thoughts. What right does she have to that name after what she had done to me? She thought angered and confused. "I don't like doing this, but I have no choice."

"Really?" Thorn's voice was filled with spite and hatred, although perhaps it was rightfully so. "Then why do this to me? Why do this to others? What about her?! I know for a fact that I'm not the only one to have been violated in such a heinous manner!"

Thorn motioned to the young woman hanging from a noose in the cell opposite. Clenching her fist, she rose from the ground and stormed to Nise—who was shocked at the sudden outburst from the Peacekeeper. No prisoner had ever dared to raise their voice to such a volume at one of their captains before, so this was a new experience for the Nobushi.

"Tell me why the fuck you're doing this if you don't want to!" Thorn yelled, grabbing the bars as she got closer to Nise. Jumping back as the Peacekeeper tried to grab at the her, Nise couldn't help but just stare with shock at Thorn. "Why the fuck, huh? Why? WHY?!"

Nise turned on her heel and walked down the decrepit hallways of the prisons, listening as Thorn yelled loudly at Nise. Soon, the yelling turned to cries for help, but after receiving no answer for a long while, Thorn could only fall back to the ground and weep, for she did not know if she was going to live to the next sunrise.

* * *

 **A/N: Damn, this one was text-heavy. Sorry about that! Anyway, I'll just say my obligatory "sorry for being away for so long," although I feel like you a** **ll should be used to it by now. Regardless, I hope that you all enjoyed the read.**


	13. Author's Note: Revisions (Final Update)

**Author's Note: Revisions**

* * *

Hello, and I hope that you have enjoyed this version of The Wishful Few. No, this is not an update to the actual story. I just wanted to update this story with an author's note explaining what I plan on doing with The Wishful Few.

As some may have noticed, I have moved this story to a new one called Nos Sunt Lupi. It is a rewrite of this story because I absolutely hate how this version flowed. Hopefully, you will enjoy the revisions as much as I do, for I believe it to be a vast improvement.

I am abandoning this version, but I will still leave it up—at least until I finish Nos Sunt Lupi. I hope that you all enjoyed the small amount that I have written in The Wishful Few, but it's time to say goodbye to it. And I'm glad to do so.

I hope to see you all over on Nos Sunt Lupi, and if there's any other questions, please don't hesitate to message me. I'll be sure to respond when I can.

 **Mister Cydonia**


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